The term, “I skunked you,” or “that team really skunked us,” is tossed about so easily. When I play Scrabble with our grandchildren they hope for that high number tile to get in the right place on the board so they can “skunk” me. When those same grandsons have a bad day and their football or baseball teams gets “skunked” they are so distressed they can’t even text or call to share the bad news. I’ve used that word for years to describe heart-wrenching defeat, but last night our Sweet Jenny experienced what getting “skunked” is really all about.
After a late night of barbeque and baseball in Round Rock north of Austin, we were welcomed home by Jenny, who was eager for a trip to the back yard. I went out with her, armed with the bright deck light and a lantern flashlight. She promptly took care of business and was ready to go back in the house when something hunkered down in a nearby bush caught her eye. It took off to the back of the yard and so did she – but she didn’t stay long. Before I gave her the “come” command she came trotting back, licking her chops, and shaking her head. Initially there was no odor to attract my attention. Several friends have had their dogs bitten by rattlesnakes this hot dry summer and that was my first scary thought. She whipped by me in a rush to get into the house and I followed her so I could take a closer look and…
Need I say more?
Whoa! First, let me enlighten you by sharing that when any member of a household gets skunked, the whole household is skunked. How fortunate that Jenny’s attacker was a “youngen” or a “geezer” – a term I resent more and more as years go by. But in skunk attacks you can be glad when one of those two age groups is the culprit. The scent on Jenny was not the heavy-duty one you smell on the highway when a skunk has been disposed of by an 18-wheeler. It was slightly different, but once in the house, just as repulsive – both to Jenny and to us.
Once we determined Jenny had not been bitten by a snake it was too late to change our course of action. Trust me, she didn’t have to come in contact with anything but the air to make a lasting impression. It instantly permeated EVERYTHING. Since her head got the most impact we gave her an immediate head, nose, and lip scrub while we fed her a peanut butter sandwich to get the taste out of her mouth – just like a woman she had her mouth wide open barking when the dirty deed was dealt. Poor Jenny shook with stress, but our usual shower of attention, plus the peanut butter sandwich, calmed her down. Then we thought…
What did we learn about being REALLY skunked? We learned human nostrils absorb the odor, so after she was thoroughly washed we couldn’t tell if she was clean or not. We could run our noses over everything and it all smelled like it had been skunked along with Jenny.
Overnight I assumed the odor would drift away because she was clean, but I woke up to odor intensity like no other and when Jenny and I went outside the side yard where she was skunked still gave off a lasting stench. Inside I turned on all the exhaust fans in the house. Not a drop of tomato juice was in the pantry, so a warm shower for Jenny with an entire bottle of shampoo was the only solution even though the attack was to one small area. Scrubbing included Jenny’s nose and lips again, and a good tooth brushing before we made any headway at all. It definitely helps to have a loving, well-behaved dog like Jenny, who stood patiently and allowed me to scrub her and spray her so vigorously. Then I dug into my cupboards and dragged out every spray can known to mankind and went to work. Fabric shampoo all over the carpet and furniture in the great room helped and it provided some hope that the house would, once again, smell like lavender and vanilla like our Sweet Jenny now smells like coconut oil and citrus. We have so many candles lit that, if the pastor shows up unexpectedly he’ll be certain I’ve gone wiccan and am having a séance.
So, we ask ourselves again, what did we really learn from this exciting start to our week? Well…we learned that being “skunked” in Scrabble isn’t the end of the world and doesn’t leave any bad scars – or ugly odors. When our grandsons’ baseball teams get “skunked” we’ll encourage them to go to work on basic skills that don’t include early morning shampoos for Jenny and deodorizing the whole house – our bed, the carpet, and the furniture.
Fred will mow the lawn where it all took place and then we’ll water it down and hope the odor eventually blows off to San Antonio or Corpus Christi. I’ll get some large cans of tomato juice at the grocery this week and visit with Mr. Google to figure out how NOT to get “skunked” in our own backyard.
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