Got Skunk?

What a lovely way to start the day.

I was woken up at 5:00 in the blessed AM by hubby dearest swearing like a trucker. The bleeping dog had gotten sprayed by a bleeping skunk ... yet again.

This isn't a new routine for us. The bleeping dog, and her bleeping predecessor, had been sprayed by skunks before, always at ungodly hours of the morning. You see, hubby dearest works these wonderful shifts, and so, he feels he is doing the good dog-daddy thing by letting the dog out for a pee before he heads off to work. This is despite (or, perhaps, in spite of) my repeated requests to stop because - d'uh! - there are bleeping skunks in the area and, being nocturnal animals, they're all heading home for a good night's - or day's - rest at precisely that time of morning.

What I find amusing about this whole ordeal is that the inevitable comment that follows a multiple spraying like this is, "You'd think she'd learn her lesson after the first time."

Oh, yes. Of all the characters involved in this comedy, you'd think the dog would be the one to learn the lesson. As intelligent as she is ... and she is extremely intelligent ... she is, in fact, a dog. She is a highly prey-driven, chase-anything-that-moves kind of dog, to boot. Would I expect her to take a face-full of fresh eau de skunk as a lesson to stop chasing little things that run? That would be nice, but I'm not holding my breath (well, technically I am, but that's not what I mean here).

I immediately embarked on my virtual quest for skunk-spray remedies. I've come across one interesting recipe, repeatedly, which everyone swears will works like a charm. The directions involve peroxide, baking soda and liquid dish soap ... oh, yes, and a pair of thick rubber gloves. The recipe also cautions that you should keep the mixture in an open container, as enclosing it with a lid might cause it to explode.

Forgive me, but I'm a little hesitant to pour a volatile concoction, with the potential for combustion, onto my dog's head. Call me old-fashioned, but I'm funny that way.

What other options do I have? Well, it's not likely that she'll spend the rest of the season in the back yard. She's been out there for 4 hours now and has almost figured out how to open the patio door by herself. She's most definitely an indoor dog, and doesn't take kindly to being separated from her pack. The last time I went to the back door to make sure she was OK, she gave me an intense stare and then ... I swear to you ... with her nose, she pointed at the door handle. She was very clearly saying, "Look, I've had quite enough 'fresh' air now. Would you open the freakin' door already?"

I can't very well put her in the car and take her to a groomer or to the pet store to pick up some dog-safe product with which to bathe her. Aside from the fact that hubby dearest would probably divorce me for stinking up the truck that badly, I do have two young children who would have to come with me, and I think enclosing them in a car with her at the moment could be construed as child abuse.

I also can't leave her in the back yard while I go out. Not only is she a chaser, but she's a climber as well. As soon as I would walk out the front door, she would scale the measly 4 foot fence just like a cat. Now that I think of it, she must have learned that particular trick from all the cats she's chased out of our yard over the years. Gee, thanks, puss!

So, she'll have to spend the day out back, offending our neighbours, until hubby gets home from work and one of us can go shopping. In the mean time, my biggest challenge will be keeping the kids from inadvertently letting her into the house during their various daytime wanderings. That task should prove a bit of a challenge - kind of like trying to build a dam out of a pair of pantyhose.