It was a lovely summer night this evening. I was sitting outside on the front steps with my wife, a friend from down the street, and my dog. Conversation was flowing, the bugs hadn’t found us, it was as nice as could be. And then a skunk crashed the party. Otherwise I wouldn’t be writing this.
There’s no mistaking a skunk. They’re small, and their black-and-white coloring is very distinctive. Instinct takes over right way. The brain thinks “Must.Move.Away. Now!”. So I ran in the door first, as the others scrambled to get inside too. But it turns out the skunk had no interest in us. The dog was its real target. And that short second of panic and confusion was all it took for the skunk to ruin the evening.
The smell of a skunk is difficult to describe. But when it happens, you’ll know it. Either you’ve been around one or you haven’t. There isn’t any middle ground, believe me.
Washing the dog off in the basement sink seemed to be a logical step. Taking the dog into any main part of the house would just take that smell with it, and so best to get it out of sight (and smell) as quickly as possible. But shampoo doesn’t seem to work real well. It doesn’t help at all, actually. After several applications of this pina colada-smelling stuff, it was still nastier than anything I had experienced before, or hopefully will ever experience again. And no, I’m not exaggerating.
Lots of candles were lit, lots of Lysol was sprayed, and the dog will be taken to the groomers first thing in the morning tomorrow. Hopefully the smell will die out eventually. But for sheer foulness, I can’t think of much worse than a skunk’s spray.