Part 1: Sven & Ula: Not To Be Believed “Looks like you got yourself some skunks diggin’ ‘ere, Ula,” Sven said, spying the many divot-like holes off the corner of Ula’s porch near the basswood tree. “No Sven, you’re mistaken. Dose holes are made by Tamiasciurus hudsonicus, da red squirrel as da locals call dem,” Ula replied authoritatively seeing as he’s Wannaska Township’s official squirrel trapper. “Not skunks.” “Uh, I beg to differ Ula. I vas over to da 2nd Palmville Pub da udder day an’ Festus dere showed me vat skunk ‘oles look like--an’ make no mistake, dey look yust like dis,“ Sven said, peering up at Ula on the porch.“Look at all dese! You’ve got a ton of dem! Must be a whole family of skunks ‘ereabouts, an’ probably livin’ right ‘ere under your porch.” “You look more intelligent den you actually are Sven,” Ula snorted. “Even Festus Marvinson vud agree vit me dat dese are made by red squirrels burying dere nuts an’ seeds against da ruthless onslaught of vinter,