I swear, my pets are going to send me straight to the hospital one of these days. It’s either going to be my pets or my husband doing the sending…I can’t tell. Have you ever noticed that men always enter chaotic animal situations with good intentions, and unfortunately just make the whole ordeal ten times worse? Me too!
It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon and our three lovely pups were basking in the sun. I think they knew how schitzo the weather had been this year, and really needed to catch up on some serious summertime naps. Bella and Zoey, the gigantic slices of bullmastiff bread, were sandwiching our professional snack thief, the hot link basset hound Mr. Clouseau.
Given that it was an average day, I must’ve been doing the dishes or cleaning up massive piles of doggie dung… I can’t quite recall. Anyhow, out of nowhere, Pepe Le Pew crawled out of the bushes! Like clockwork, the dogs awoke and sprinted towards Pepe. Like clockwork, Pepe the skunk sprays the dogs. Like clockwork, my husband automatically thinks letting the pups in the house would probably be the best idea. At this point, all five of us were franticly running in circles as the putrid spray was passed from canine to human to our new furniture. My new furniture!!! What would I tell our guests now? ‘Oh yes, it’s a new fragrance from Maui. All the Hawaiians are wearing it. It’s called barf, would you like a bottle?’
EVERYTHING was skunked. I sat in the nauseating stench trying to formulate a plan of action before a nervous break down ensued. Here’s what I came up with:
- Step 1: We go to the store and purchase a shelf full of tomato sauce.
- Step 2: Humans and canines go for a tomato dip.
- Step 3: Bid farewell to the odorific couches.
- Step 4: Success! (I should know better than to assumes such an easy victory)
Without a second thought, my husband and I grabbed the keys and headed straight for the drug store. We needed 4 boxes of rubber gloves, skunk wash, and whatever else would permanently rid my animals of Pepe’s revenge. ‘Why do all of the cashiers keep leaving the counter during our time-constrained dilemma?’, I thought to myself. ‘Helllooo??? Our house is thrashed and our animals wreak…can I get some help over here?’ Oh wait, WE SMELL TOO! I blame my olfactory deficiency on a deviated septum. My husband…well, he’s not the superior gender so that’s just a biological disadvantage. But seriously, I think the spray had killed any smelling sense left in our bodies at that point. Seeing as how the whole store cleared out within 2 minutes of our grand entrance, we won’t be going back to that place anytime soon.
Hour after hour, wash after wash, this stuff was not coming off! Was it time to just accept this new smell into our house? To live, eat, and sleep in skunk? Just as I settled into my lovely new skunk couch, a light bulb appeared above my head! Eureka! Lets just take the dogs to our local groomers! So simple. So easy. I wonder if they can de-skunk humans too. Five hours and two groomers later, our dogs were de-stenched, and we were banned from both groomers…an exile well worth the loss, I might add.
Two weeks later the skunk was finally out of our lives. My Pepe nightmares have finally subsided, and we have agreed upon a plan of action should this ever happen again. Drop everything and move.