Sunday, August 26, 2012

Poochie Le Pew

Sniff. Sniff. The fragrance of fresh skunk in the air, that intense, sophisticated bouquet featuring warm woodland musks from one perfumed bandit’s anal glands.  Ahhhh….

Breathe it in.

In—ha—le.  Ex—ha—le. 

* Cough * Cough * Cough *

Out-hale. Out-hale. Out-hale! Gag! Gag!

Poochie Le Pew you wonder? Yeah, skunks and dogs don't mix well. Shocker right? 'Tis a very foul combo that I hope you haven't had the misfortune of gracing your doggie door.

Dogs love sticking their noses in places they don’t belong. Keep your grubby snout away from the receiving end of anything that is gonna blast and super soak your furry ass with a gun freshly loaded with greasy fart juice. Is this too much to ask? You do know which side your dog bone is buttered? Adding a skunk’s backside to the list of “Don’t go theres,” right between the garbage can and the crotches of my guests. K? Are we all clear here?

My dog, Palomino, got himself skunked a while back. Now to say he got “skunked” would be an understatement. He went out and clearly pissed off the Granddaddy of them all, the King of the Skunks. He got “SKUUUNNKKKEED.” You see the difference, right? Not remotely the same thing. No. No. BIG smelly difference. Captial “P,” Captial “U.”

Now this is a dog that loves a good stink. He reveled in the scent of dead squirrel once and decided that it was so very lovely that he just had to have it for himself. Just. Had. To. Have. It. Commence “Operation Roll All Over Squirrel Carcass.” Writhing and wriggling on top of it. Grinding every inch of stench from the decaying flesh beneath his large Labrador frame. Mission complete. Drenched in eau de toilette of decomposing rodent, he was happier than a pig in shit and smelled even better.
Even HE, a fan of all fermented things, was appalled with the way he smelled after his brief encounter with King Pepé. His sad eyes pleading with me, “help me.”

Exiled to the back yard, he sat, lowly, tied to the swing set until I could locate a magic potion. 
I never had any luck with tomato juice. Its only success was in emulating finger painting for adults with a mushy hairy nasty mess. Passing on that art project as an option, I immediately called the Vet. They suggested feminine douches, even said pharmacies usually have cases on hand for this very occasion. Presto chango, this was the rabbit in that hat I was looking for. Makes sense, cleansing and neutralizing odors of an intimate kind just might work on the stink of a more public variety.
Hi Ho! Hi Ho! It’s off to get my case of douches I go!
Enthusiastically at the pharmacy I requested my case of makeshift skunk-be-gone. The immediate look of horror on the girl’s face, I knew I had made a grave error and did not fully consider the execution of this purchase.
Back pedal. Back pedal. Back pedal. I began stammering and stuttering, “my dog got skunked, the vet suggested this.” She’s not buying a single word and her repulsion for me is clear and unwavering. This woman has now figuratively placed a giant “V” on my chest, like the scarlet “A,” but I’m the stinky “V.” Great.

I have a strong need to defend my personal hygiene. But what do you say? “I don’t need extra cleansing?” “I smell good?” “I wash habitually?” “I haven’t had any complaints?”  Feeling I can’t redeem any sense of decorum or pride at this point, I turn and walk away, dragging my humiliated, but squeaky clean “V” with me. Ya hear that? CLEAN!

Still needing a remedy for the dog, I grab as many twin-packs of disposable douches off the regular shelves that I can hold on to. I check-out with the cashier up-front and I get the hell out of there! A flowery mist of wonderfulness follows me out to my car and it ain’t from the dozen plus douches that I now have in stow. Just saying.
At home, the delicate deskunking process begins.  Scrub-a-dub-dub, it’s doggy douche time in the tub. Pour it over. Rub it in. Soak. Repeat. And it works!  Bottles and bottles of “Extra Cleansing” followed by equal number of “Country Flowers” and the dog is clean, deodorized and feminine fresh. Aside from his owner, this male dog is the second best smelling female in the house. Ah-em, second to the owner and he’s my dog. Got it? Good.  
I can’t blame Massengill or Summer’s Eve for the unjust disgrace and shame my poor “V’ had to endure here. Nor can I attest to whether their products can renew girly parts gone wild. But I can tell you, a vinegar-and-water douche can come in handy at unanticipated and surprising moments. Due to that fact, I’m suggesting a new picture for their boxes:
***4 out of 5 Pooches recommend for that “not-so-fresh” feeling!!


  1. One of Mama's MB dogs got a hold of one of those skunks, AWFUL! This skunk didn't spray anyone or anything else after that night :/



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