Mink Stink, a guest post by Brian Burger

Actually, they do. Really. The weasel family, Mustelidae, have scent glands that some of us can’t miss. To wit, the infamous “Pepe Le Pew,” our indigenous Skunk. They don’t all exude that strong a perfume, but they all do have active and able scenting devices.

The family is a large one of carnivores. They are all quite adept “killing machines.” They are voracious and even wasteful regardless their size. Weasels, mink, ferrets, martens, fishers, otters, and wolverines….all weasels or Mustelids. All are favored—especially in eastern Eurasia—for their coat making, exquisite furred skins. (We don’t need to go there now, but nature does provide some sustainable harvest.)

So, a week ago I found one of my free-ranging, escapee, feral New Zealand rabbits dead with nary any damage but missing the forward part of its lower jaw. No blood, but dead nonetheless. A few days ago, one of my chicken sheds was opened in the morning to witness my two back-up Rhode Island Red roosters lying dead. Little damage, but cold and stiff. The building is tight except for a 2 inch gap atop the walls and under the roof for ventilation.

I started suspecting with increased certainly a weasel—the diminutive of the family small enough to squeeze through two inches to inflict damage well beyond believability based on size.

Two nights ago, I was tending my rabbit shed with three does due to kindle (give birth). Before going in, my headlamp struck the eyes of a known feral cat. Coming out, at another location only 12 feet away, my lamp struck eyes again. Momentarily I was thinking the same cat, microseconds later my brain suggested “that damn weasel,” microseconds again my woods knowledge identified the creature as a mink. It was most likely a young male, but possibly a female. Not too large, but bigger than a weasel by far.

Despite being aquatic mammals, mink will travel, especially for food, and even more for the seasonal and conjugal visitation with one of the opposite gender. Now is that time of year. This little, American “Tasmanian Devil” (the real T.D. is a pacific carnivorous marsupial) was obviously back for more where it learned the value of a good meal at a discount price.

The live trap was set later that evening. The location was changed last night and found this morning sprung without the quarry inside. Hopefully I will have captured and moved it far away to another, more aquatic haunt in just yet another day.

Another day on the farmstead.

Brian B. Burger