July 31, 2007

That Old Black Magic

Photograph by Gordon and Cathy Illg/Animals Animals—Earth Scenes
Tonight it happened again.
Our dog, Emmy, has been skunked so many times she can pass herself off as an honorary skunk. Five times in four years.

We first became aware of this phenomenon when we were at the family farm on one cold Thanksgiving night, right before we were to leave for a holiday party. We were outside in the dark rubbing her fur down with cans of tomato juice. Since then, we've moved onto bigger and better things, namely industrialized strength skunk shampoo.

An hour ago, my husband came running through the living room, “Where are the dogs!" He said he could smell the skunk odor through the air conditioner in the kitchen. (After having a dog sprayed five times, he has developed quite the nose for that particular smell. It has become his enemy.)

He ran outside and I heard this loud, “No, no!” I knew what was coming because I had heard this "No, no" many times before. He walked through the door covered with dirt and said that Emmy had shook her fur (and consequently her odorous perfume) right as he took hold of her collar and then added that he was now covered in skunk dust.

Poor Stephane, he is in the bedroom once again, changing into his worn out shirt and old shorts at 10:30 P.M. on a Tuesday night to go outside and hose down our dog with skunk shampoo.

He deserves an honorary award.

The Amazing Skunk Cleaner Upper

Somehow, I don't think this is the best time to mention the award.

Emmy is now considered the largest skunk in the world.

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