Skunked Again

It’s been a while, and I let down my guard--the consequence, not one but two skunked dogs. In town, to add insult to injury.

When I lived along the banks of Big Creek, almost three miles west of Ellis, I expected dog/skunk encounters every year, and we had them. I kept a supply of ingredients to make my magic de-scenting potion and knew I’d use them every few months. A year and half of living in the small burg of Logan with no Pepe Le Pew encounters spoiled me. I never thought about the fact that skunks don’t read city limit signs.

After a Friday night cruise into the countryside to watch dusk descend over green pastures and wheat fields, we arrived home ready to settle in for the evening. It wasn’t three minutes before that acrid, eye-burning smell rode a gentle south breeze from behind our shed into windows open to welcome fresh spring air. That was a joke. About the time my nose hit high alert, my husband let me know what triggered the stink bomb.

 Yes, our beloved grand-pups had insulted a black and white kitty as it passed through their territory. Working in tandem to drive the invader away, they’d come close to that trespasser’s backside. The direct shot blasted both with enough stench to coat ten pooches. Their hangdog looks told me they knew it.

I hurriedly concocted a triple dose of hydrogen peroxide, baking soda, and dish soap before slipping into raggedy clothes I could toss if necessary. One at a time, I doused each pooch and scrubbed relentlessly. After the first bath, my insulted nostrils and eyes couldn’t tell if I’d succeeded or not in banishing the offending odor from dog one’s fur. Using shop towels, I rubbed him down and lugged him outside to shake remaining droplets from his coat.

Round two with pet number two began soon after. That chunky boy didn’t seem quite so odiferous, and he’d had a recent shearing at the groomers, so he was a little easier to de-scent. Due to his size, he was  harder to maneuver in the laundry room sink, but we got the job done and kept the water where it belonged. He, too, got a toweling before I transported him outside to join his partner in crime.

It didn’t take more than a sniff of dog one to realize it was good thing I’d made so much of the special elixir. That guy needed a second dose of my un-skunking solution. He must’ve read my mind because he tried to scurry out of reach, but it was too late. He was heading back to the washtub and the last of the skin tingling cleanser.

Both dogs had that unmanageable hair look caused by a recent bath. I’m not picking up much residual scent from the boys, but that skunk certainly laid a shot pattern over our yard. Every time I walk out back, I can tell it visited. I’m hoping good rain will  take care of that problem.