The Skunk

There's a skunk under my house. Yes, you read right, a real skunk.
Last evening as I was getting ready for bed I got a call from Loyd, one of the elders in our church, who was the last to leave the building after our evening VBS.
"Hey, I was driving by your house and guess what? I just saw the prettiest little black and white kitty come from your flower bed and head toward the creek."
It took me a minute to ponder why he would call me over a kitty. I'm allergic to cats, but one in the yard is no problem. Then it soaked in.
"Ok, I'll stay in."
"No. I think he has a nest under your house. Are you sure there's not a hole somewhere there?"
"Well, I don't think so. All the vents are sealed off."
"You'd better check. Skunks can get in through very small holes. Right now he's gone, so it'd be a great time to seal any holes you see."
So I dressed and went outside. Sure enough, there was a little hole at the bottom of the vent to the crawl space where a brick was missing. I found a brick that was more or less the right size, then piled more bricks over and around it for good measure, went back into the house and went to bed. This morning just before six, I checked the vent before I took off for my morning walk. The bricks had been moved; the little skunk hole was open again, so I know he's under there.
I don't think I'll vacuum the bedroom today; don't want to startle anything.
After he leaves on his nocturnal prowl tonight, I'll pile a mountain of bricks or cement the space.