The Dogs Have a Very Bad Day

16 07 2010

Charlie’s very bad day started at about 8 in the morning, but had its roots in an event that took place 6 hours earlier.

At 2am, the entire household awoke to the screaming of Chris’s dog.  I feared that she had tangled with a coyote or other wild creature and gotten the worst of it.  I guess she did, actually, but it wasn’t a coyote, and she hadn’t been harmed by tooth or claw: she chased a skunk and got a face full of its spray.  Stinking and foaming at the mouth, Porter was otherwise okay.  Jason found a recipe to rid her of the smell, and Chris gave her a bath.  The incident took place on the deck, and all the windows were open to the cool night air, so the entire house was permeated with the scent.  Charlie sniffed the air and went back to sleep.

The next day, I let Charlie out for his morning airing.  I knew what was going to happen, but I resigned myself to it.  After all, I couldn’t spend the whole day following him around.  Sure enough, when he came to get his breakfast, the odor that accompanied him proved that he had gone and rolled around in the weeds where the skunk had fled.

Charlie spent the morning locked out of the house.

I know that for some dogs, being banned to the (3 acre) yard would be no big deal on a warm summer morning.  Charlie was devastated.  With birds chirping in the trees and squirrels scampering around, Charlie remained morosely curled by the garage door.  Every time the door opened, he begged to come in.

Finally, the door opened and he was allowed to enter.

Somehow, though, instead of ending up in his bed, he found himself in the shower.  And it was on.

After the trauma of his unexpected bath, Charlie was again locked of the house to dry.

Poor dog.

Both dogs, though, have fully recovered from the attack, and it’s once again safe to breathe the air at our house.

Charlie, drying out after his bath

Porter, resting after an eventful night

"Don't Let Charlie In Please": A note for anyone coming through the door

Seriously, Jason went out to hunt the skunk. Pajamas, headlamp, flashlight and shotggun; really? Lucky for us all, he didn't find the skunk.




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