Apparently, it's all my fault

   Today, AWV offers you something a little different: a guest blogger. My decision to stay an extra day in Ottawa had unintended, unexpected, and completely unforseeable consequences. Why don't I let my wife explain it to you in her own words. The following is an e-mail she sent out to her co-workers (no Joe, I won't fall prey to your silly little meme), and CC'd to me. I reproduce it here with her permission.

This past weekend, hubby and son went to Ottawa to visit Auntie Susie and her brood of children.  This is an annual event, and our dog goes into diet mode as he misses terribly his alpha master (my husband). Unfortunately, his hunger strike this weekend has been accompanied by a terrible case of the runs. This means that no matter how well trained a beast,  no matter how house broken even, they can lose control of their bowels. And no, we had no accidents in the house because my puppy is insistent enough and persistent enough to let you know when he 'urgently' needs to go out. (I guess you need to love an animal enough to recognize what different sounds mean, not unlike a mother recognizing the different cries of her new born babe.)

So, throughout the course of the weekend there were numerous 1 AM (and so on) scratches at the door. Well, THIS particular morning was slightly different in the sense that my beast, once let out, (at 12:30 or so),  was not interested in coming back in. Since I am not the Alpha dog in the house, my pleading with him to come back in fell on mute ears. So, what do I do? I leave him. After all, what harm could there be? It's a fully fenced yard, it means that I may actually get a few hours of uninterrupted sleep, and it's much cooler outside than inside for my long haired beast. Well, around 5 AM I startle awake, realizing that the dog has not yet been asking to come in. As I look out my bedroom window, I begin to smell the all too familiar scent of a skunk, up close and personal. The smell of a dead skunk on the road is NOTHING compared to the live, fresh scent of a living critter. I boot it to my side door thinking to rescue my dog before he comes face to face with the oversized rodent. Too late, the poor beast is covered in spray. His face is dripping with the stuff!

So, I have scrubbed and soaped and rinsed him, my patio, my side screen door.....contrary to popular belief, tomato juice, toothpaste and baking soda do not work.So, I missed my usual train this morning, and am sitting on the later train wondering if I too smell given how up close and personal I was to my poor dog.  I can't seem to get rid of the smell from my nostrils, and there is no one home to tell me that I do or do not reek of skunk. I trust you will all let me know. (Of course, if no one sits beside me on the train, I will suspect that my nostrils are not deceiving me!) So, please do not hesitate to let me know! (And if I seem a little distracted today, you will understand why!)

See you all soon.
P

   My dog has now been skunkified for the third time. The first time, the skunk missed, and he was only covered around his neck, chest and forelegs. The second time, I'm pretty sure he just found a dead skunk and rolled in it. This time, he got the full force of the jet, smack dab in the face. I am told his eyes were more bloodshot than a teenager coming home from a rock concert, and he rubbed his nose and lips raw trying to wipe off the horrible stuff.
   When I got home at about 2:30, he was lying disconsolately in a very smelly kitchen. He perked up considerably as the afternoon wore into evening, and he is almost his old, exuberant self now. We'll see how he eats tomorrow morning before we declare him cured of the blues.
   As for the smell...experience tells us there's only so much one can do. It eventually goes away on its own.

tags: Misc.