Okay, let me just set the scene. It had been a lovely, creative day of painting. A snowstorm was coming in over the mountain and I was cleaning up for the day. The winds were really kicking up and the temps had dropped dramatically, so I decided not to take the dogs out for their walk. I let them out to do some exploring on their own.
Kelee came home soon, but Finn had been gone for about a half hour and I was starting to worry. Just before heading out to search for him, I looked out the door one more time and there he was, just ahead of the snow, bounding across the yard. Thank you Spirit! Finn was home safe.
I opened the door to him and he gleefully dashed in (never one to endure the cold for long). But, oh no! What was that smell?! SKUNK! It was skunk! My Finn had been skunked! (no time to worry about the skunk in that moment). There went the idea of curling into my book for awhile before making dinner.
I’d never had to deal with this before and my immediate response was to call Bill Loyd (see previous post The Farmer’s Mantra) (many of us in this village call Bill at the first sign of trouble—he ALWAYS knows what to do). But even Bill had to google skunk solutions.
He found one: hydrogen peroxide, baking soda and liquid soap. Finn and I were going to have to take a shower. I have no bathtub you see. And my shower stall is small, as in tiny. Oh me.
Add to that the fact that whenever I touch Finn in any unusual way–like to drag him into the shower–he freezes. That’s 71 pounds of solid muscle refusing to budge. And he hangs his head and looks so miserable that it just breaks my heart. But I had no choice. The noxious smell of skunk was permeating my home.
So I got him into the bathroom, closed the door, took off my clothes and started the shower. It was not a pretty sight, folks. I think there was almost more water on the floor than in the shower itself. But I got him in there eventually, wetted him thoroughly, and mixed the solution. He was one very unhappy dog. As much as I continually reassured him, telling him what a truly good dog he was, he seemed dejectedly certain that he had, somehow, been very bad and this terrible treatment was his punishment.
But we got through it and it WORKED! The skunk smell was totally neutralized. I toweled him dry over and over again and we ran down to the the blazing fire. He wouldn’t look at me or even wag his tail (a Finn first) for at least an hour.
I cleaned up and then it was time for a late dinner. I’ve sent out a prayer that Finn has learned his lesson about skunks. Please, Spirit, make it so.
Oh, and the next day I found the spot of encounter (no mistaking the smell even 10 hours later) and there was no skunk carcass. May that skunk have learned its lesson, also, about Finn.
Love to you all,
Jeane
OH MY!! I recall when this happened in real time…I love hearing all the details…albeit they are not exactly FUN time words. I have to clean up Rock I’d day about once a month from rolling in things in the yard…he is much smaller and I stick him into my large mud room sink with a kitchen long hosed faucet. HE HATES IT. He cowers and tries to avoid my reach, but once it is done, he is does the run and roll (inside on the rugs) happy dog dance, so I suppose it has its advantages…for HIM anyway lol.
We had several more skunk incidents. Even Kelee got skunked! My friend, Kathy, had said Kelee was too elegant to get involved with skunks, but it wasn’t so. The good news is, however, that the dogs harassed the skunks so much that they seem to have moved on. Yay for all of us!