Late last night, Gordon steps out of the shower and opens the door. I am parked on the chair in the corner of the bathroom.
Gordon, big smile: Hey there. Were you waiting for me?
Me: Hmm. Can you walk into the bedroom, please?
Gordon, in a towel, walking to the bedroom: Sure. What am I… Why does it smell so bad in here? Dear Lord. Oh wow.
Sookie got sprayed by a skunk. We don’t know how her stupid butt managed to surprise a skunk. She is huge, she is slow, unless she is charging, and she’s barks like a fog horn. You’d think the skunk would see her coming a mile away and take off. Oh, it is awful. And I am, apparently, one of the small percentage of people who cannot handle it. I never knew this, but I literally couldn’t get close to that dog. It’s like rotten garlic and decomposed citrus rolled into one. Kid 1 couldn’t do it either.
We didn’t have any peroxide, and it was too late to buy it, so Sookie spent the night in the garage. Somehow I managed to pass out in the still noxious bedroom. I was exhausted. This morning Sookie still smells, so we will be doing the washing as soon as peroxide arrives.
Yes, I know about tomato juice, but it doesn’t work as well as peroxide and soda.
Oh the stench. The stench.
Update: it’s 12:27 pm. I am finally done deskunking. Peroxide and baking soda works, but it takes multiple applications. There is still a faint whiff of perfume de skunk, but we can deal. Cleaning the floor where she flopped yesterday really sucked.