Saturday, December 13, 2008

Not the Smartest Bears in the 'hood?

This morning as I was getting ready for work our cat joined me in the bathroom. I applied mascara and then watched as the cat appeared to settle herself down on the bathmat to my left as I stood at the sink.

Settling,, wait, that's CROUCHING. Mascara wand in hand, damned if I didn't helplessly observe my feline lift her tail and spray urine all over the alley between the bathtub and vanity, covering the shower curtain, the tile, the side of the cabinet, and the bathmat. Her litter box lay pristine only one foot away.

I should have known right then that today might be a pisser.

Flip ahead to 10:35 PM. I've survived a workday of solving problems, supporting staff, nodding agreeably at angry parents, and suspending students. I carpooled to the admin. staff party and back and I have poured myself a glass of wine. The cat is perched on the arm of the couch to my right; our neighbor's daughter and mine are asleep on the floor in the living room; youngest child is tucked in; husband is contentedly flipping through the newspaper on our bed.

All appears calm at the ranch. But if you lean in close for a sniff, you'll smell the skunk.

I'm talking about the skunk who lives under the next-door neighbors' house. The skunk whose cute little babies sprayed our dog this summer. The skunk who regularly digs in our garden. The skunk who has made us wary of letting the dog out at night. The skunk I forgot about tonight.

Until that familiar scent wafted through our window.

"Where's the dog?" asked my husband, nose wrinkled. "Is she out?"

I gulped.

He let her in. The three children in our house began wailing: "Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!"

"Yep," Husband shook his head. "She got sprayed."

Last time this happened it was 5 AM and it was summertime. We accidentally, sleepily, let our pooch into the house and discovered her malodorous state too late. Then we sequestered her until we could take her to the Dogwash, where I knew they would have a skunk solution. They did; I swear our dog never smelled so fresh.

But this time it's Friday night at 10 PM and it's cold outside and I'm tired and I already cleaned up cat pee once today. I can't put the dog back out to duke it out with skunks all night. THE SKUNKS WILL WIN.

So that is how our dog wound up in the shower tonight. And why, for lack of better ideas, we doused her with Target-brand body wash and the one little can of V8 we had on hand. And then sprayed her with hair detangler. That is why we have a cold, wet, still-smelly dog curled up on her dog bed, looking gloomy and sheepish.

As for me, I am done with wildlife for the day. Even though I smell like a second-class skunk (with detangler).


I'm back! With an update from 4 AM:

Dog begged to be let out. Husband's good idea was to go out in the backyard with her to ensure her Safety from Skunks. Husband watched dog doing her business...and then, unbelievably, WATCHED A SKUNK STREAK UP TO HER AND SPRAY HER IN THE FACE.

All three of us trooped back into the bathroom, where we did a 3:45 AM job of cleaning the dog. We had no more V8. Husband produced a mega can of diced peeled tomatoes. It was O'Dark Thirty. We were both grumpy. I looked at him incredulously, and asked, "Really, honey? In the shower? Tomato chunks aren't going down the drain." His only feeble defense, poor sleepless, skunk-victimed man, was, "I thought I'd ask."

So dog still smells terrible. Whole house reeks. No adults could sleep.

Now it's morning; the kids are well rested and curious about the stench.

As for me, I've become one with skunk. I am past the point of caring.

Which means you probably don't want to come over.


Mama Deb said...

OMG! So sorry about your day. I can totally empathize. There is truly nothing worse than a dog who has been close-contact sprayed by a skunk. And I'm sorry that your house is going to stink for weeks, but you will, sadly, become oblivious to it at some point. Don't'll get your sense of smell back eventually!

JJ&K said...

Oh, gosh--that sucks. I'm sorry. Bailey has been twice-skunked in a night and it was awful. I feel your pain.