Momsense’s Wild Kingdom

Tuesday night Coach and I found ourselves sitting on our respective couches in a catatonic state trying to muster the strength to walk the 40 feet to our bedroom when I noticed the tingling sensation and an odd and not entirely pleasant smell.

I assumed it was a combination of being tired and Coach’s overzealous and compulsive need to eat gratuitous amounts of fiber in the form of broccoli, nature’s most pleasant smelling vegetable. 

And then Coach said, “I smell a skunk.”

And I thought to myself, “Yeah right.  Skunk.  However you want to spin it, we both know it’s broccoli gas.”

But then he got all wily and hyper and started walking around the house sniffing the air like a bloodhound without a cause.  All the while, I continued to ignore him and was weighing the pros and cons of just collapsing on the couch for the night rather taking the long walk to the bed.

Then he opened the door to the garage, and bellowed “Holy Cow, I think one of the dogs had a run-in with a skunk.”

I decided that Coach was overreacting.  At the very least, I was hoping  he was overreacting because oh my word the tiredness that had set in.

Did I tell you it was 11:00.  In the P.M.? 

And it was cold.  28 degrees to be exact.  And sure enough, Ivy had been thoroughly doused in the face by a skunk.  I know this because I was convinced that it was Mack who would be dumb enough to take on a skunk, so I decided to take the less pungent of the two creatures.

So. Very. Wrong.

Within moments both Ivy and I were in the front yard hacking and heaving. 

And then I went inside.

Well, Coach was having none of that.  It was at that moment that Coach decided to define a limit in our marriage.  Apparently ridding the dog of skunk spray is a couple activity, not a husband activity.

So I got on the internet.  And before you say tomato juice, let me tell you a few of things:
1.  If you think I was about to pour cans of tomato juice on a neurotic dog in 28 degree weather at 11:00 in the evening, you have another thing coming.
2.  Tomato juice doesn’t work.  It masks the smell, but doesn’t get rid of it.
3.  We didn’t have any tomato juice.

Coach has never been more dumbfounded or put out as he was when he had to get in his truck and drive to the grocery store for peroxide, but I found a sure-fire solution to the skunk problem.

Peroxide, baking soda, and ivory dish washing soap.

Oh, and standing outside in  28 degree weather in shorts and a t-shirt soaking wet washing a neurotic dog who was more bothered by the bath than the skunk.

And if it happens again, I’ll happily oblige her.

See y’all

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