Well, it’s been a good thing I’ve been feeling so alive. Because after last night I feel…well…rather skunky.
It started as a pretty innocent night. I had just returned from a FABULOUS bible study with my mother-in-law. I was exhausted and ready to settle in for the night. Typically I spend about a half-hour reading before I complete my spinal support exercises. This night…sleep would evade me.
About 10:30 my husband called the little black & white thing down for her last trip outside. We spent the day finishing the creation of flower beds in our backyard. (LOOKS fabulous!) I had a few unplanted plants and the husband did not want the dog eating them. (She likes plants. Weird dog.) So he took her out to the side yard. He counted to thirty and called her back. As she sprinted past him and she was almost to the laundry room door, the aroma hit him full force.
Tippi had met the “friendly” neighborhood skunk. It was a meeting that NONE of us will forget anytime soon.
So now the dog is running up the stairs with the husband running quickly behind SCREAMING. I think that she’s either throwing up or peeing on the carpet. AGAIN. As soon as I open the door I see the dog scrambling and Calvin herding her with a big stick.
Then I smell it. Instantaneously my eyes are burning. I can’t even breathe. I cover my nose and mouth so that I won’t become nauseous. It’s like the worst smell you can even imagine. He managed to get her downstairs and out the back door.
The kids shut their doors and I go into working mode. We’ve been here before.
I swear we must have this big neon sign that says, “Skunks welcome.” Or YHWH has this funny sense of humor and is trying to tell us something. Probably like, don’t let a skunked dog inside. I know there’s a message there somewhere…
Immediately I throw open all the windows. We begin a dance of figuring out which ones to shut at random times. Our friend is clearly not interesting in leaving the property. The smell moves to the kitchen…dining room…living room windows.
In the meantime the smell inside is KILLING us! I’m not sure what we are going to do. Last time this happened we had to move out for a week.
I quickly begin googling “How to remove skunk smell from my house.” Peroxide. Baking Soda. Wash the dog. I feel like a fly trapped in a web. I need to clean the dog. But she stinks. Unbearable. I can’t figure out what to do first. The stuff I need is outside. Where the skunk is. Fantastic.
And OF COURSE it’s now past the time that the pet store is open. I’m pretty much stuck with a stinky dog and a stinky house held hostage by a black & white puff ball.
We finally decide we HAVE to wash the dog. She’s drooling. Shaking. The rain has began to pour. I shake my finger at the sky, “Uh you think you could hold the liquid stuff for a second?”
Gabby and I are designated the clean-up crew. We choose clothes we don’t mind being ruined. We don vinyl gloves and medical masks. The only problem is that the hose is in the front. And it’s cold. And this dog only weighs 20 pounds. And there’s NO WAY we are bringing her BACK into the house.
The husband comes to the rescue. He holds the hose underneath the bathroom faucet. We create a potion of hydrogen peroxide, baking soda and dish detergent. Gabby wants to throw in peppermint oil. I tell her no. Time for a fast chemistry lesson. Now comes the fun part. Catching the dog and avoiding the skunk who has hunkered down in the corner of the yard.
This is a humbled and compliant Tippi. And she stinks. It’s real fun dragging a wet, muddy, skunky dog with rain drizzling down your back…trying to avoid vomiting all over the place. These are the moments that being the mom just plain SUCKS!
I find myself feeling sorry for her while wanting to throttle her! After about 5 minutes I think she’s done enough to spend the night in the garage. We wrap her in 4 towels and a blanket and place her in her crate. We use a not-going-to-be-used-again quilt over to keep her warm. She whimpers. I shut off the light and face the music inside.
By this time the smell has risen to the stale areas of the house. The loft area REEKS. It’s apparent that she rubbed herself on the carpet trying to get the stuff off her nose. We contemplate ripping all the carpets out. (They need to come out anyway).
I whine. I don’t have time for this. I have a field trip planned for the next day. Chiropractic appointment. Plans to make and plans to keep. Spending a day washing skunk odor out of everything we own. Not in the plans.
We manage to fall into bed about 12:45. Exhausted. And unable to smell anything but a faint burning, rubbery pungent smell.
I tell myself, “I plan. God laughs.” Not very comforting.
Mercifully sleep arrives.