Wednesday night, 9:30. Jenny has not returned. She and Otter went off on a toot after supper and she's not back. I text Claui to ask if Otter's come back. Yes, she says, and they can hear Jenny howling.
I go to the porch and holler for her. A second text arrives. Claui says they are smelling a skunk.
Great.
I holler some more and pretty soon, here comes Jenny, muddy and smelling pretty strongly of skunk.
It's now 10 pm and John is in bed asleep. I'd like to bathe the stinky critter but it's a two-person job. And it's not the worst case of skunking--probably a glancing blow. I remove her collar and wipe off the mud then Jenny and I and the cats (who are muttering something about Dogs! What can you expect?) turn in for the night.
Thursday, 1 am: Who knew that a strong smell would make it hard to sleep? I consider (briefly) trying to take Jenny (who is sound asleep on my bed, as are the cats) to the porch and attempt a bath but give it up as a bad idea.
Thursday, 2 am: Ditto
Thursday, 3 am: Ditto
Thursday, 7:30 am: We all get up, some more rested than others, and I release Jenny to the out of doors so I can have my coffee and gain strength for the ordeal ahead.
Thursday, 9 am: Jenny is back and I have gathered my supplies. One quart hydrogen peroxide, 1/3 cup baking soda, and 2 teaspoons dish detergent. This is a tried-and-true mixture that will abate, if not remove entirely, the skunk smell. You apply the mixture freely, letting it soak to the skin then wait five minutes before rinsing it off. Then follow with dog shampoo.
Well.
John holds the leash and I apply the mixture. You would think it was battery acid (I am using my bare hands, so I know it isn't.) Jenny leaps and twists, but we manage to get her thoroughly soaked.
Then the five-minute wait as Jenny uses her best hound eyes to ask why we are tormenting her.
I have the hose with a shower attachment on it for the rinse. It should have been easy, but Jenny turns into a bucking bronco. We all get a bit wet. John gets scratched.
When she is rinsed, I make an executive decision--forget the dog shampoo--and we release her to go get dry--which, of course she wants to do in the house. We chase her back outside and use the towels that were standing by to dry Jenny dog to mop up the floor.
Thursday, 2 pm: We all take a nap.
