Thursday, June 16, 2005

Dinah, Meet Pepe Le Pew

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It finally happened: after 15 months of living surrounded by the breeding skunks who seem to have a fetish for the space under our mud room, Dinah the dog finally got sprayed. And as is traditional whenever this sort of thing happens, she took on her new vomit inducing parfum at bedtime.

I have always dreaded the first time one's dog meets the business end of the skunk. The fact that it is pretty much a given in Maine, as inevitable as slow RVs from Ohio clogging the drive to work every July, doesn't make it any less horrible. Still (maybe because I've feared it so long and built it up in my mind) it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Di was obviously pissed off and freaked out, but she made it upstairs to the bathroom with minimal guidance without wiping skunk juice on everything and was meeker than usual in the tub, despite the attention we had to pay to her eyes. Luckily she has such a huge German Shep head and a collie ruff (thank god for mutts) so none of the stank made it onto her torso. She enjoyed having the tomato juice poured on her head as it appeared to be good eatin' to her mind (she drank a fair amount of it) and she's always liked the smell of Mrs. Weasel's bespoke dog shampoo so the actual bathing wasn't too onerous. Dinah's head does currently smell like a mixture of pine needles, a bloody mary, and burning tires however.

The trouble with a skunk really spraying, rather than just malodorously wandering past the house, is that the even the slightest hint of pong lingers. So much so that Mrs. Weasel decided to sleep on the living room futon to get away from Dinah's gently wafting head (I put some pleasantly scented muscle rub up my nose: fine until it began burning) and the kitchen had a really unique scent this morning thanks to the overnight marinating of collar and leash in tomato juice in the kitchen sink. I even felt compelled to apologize to my co-workers this morning should I have brought any of the skunkiness to the office with me; I keep catching hints of skunk but I'm not sure if it's down to actual skunk juice molecules or the psychological trauma of being inches from being doused myself.

At least Di has been blooded and is a true Maine dog now.
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Stinky dog

2 comments:

Mondale said...

"Bespoke dog shampoo"? Are you all turning into metrosexualists up thar in Maine?

weasel said...

Nah, we are just a pair of boom shankas; "I'm not using normal shampoo as its full of chemicals and poisons, m'kay? We have lots of herbs and pine cones knocking about, lets make our own." Mrs. Weasel works some of the week at a herbal apothecary so she has learnt a ton about this sort of stuff. She also knows how to do oxyacetelene and mig welding, so should anyone need some herbs or welding, give us a call.

Its my guilty secret, but I'm essentially an organic herbal-gerbil thanks to the tender ministrations of Mrs W. and a lack of desire to swallow ingerdients whose names are mostly numbers or formulas not whole words.

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