Saturday, 13 September 2008

Skunk: A Hate Story

It's been 2 weeks since my 'hate story' began. I apologize for using such a strong word; and 'hate' is a real bully, but you must grant me permission to feel this way when my nostrils are still stinging with the stench of my black and white fluffy visitor. This stinky incident happened on Labour Day Weekend. My sweet golden retriever, Paige, needed to go out for that one last bedtime pee. Have I told you before that she will pee on command? She will. I'm proud of that. Unfortunately, I have not trained her to 'not' chase a skunk at bedtime whilst peeing. So, there I was. Exhausted, creamy face ready for bed, washing a big dog with tomato juice, then water, then Pepsi, then 7up - all ideas from my beach house guests. My home, with the sand kissed floors, filled with skunk musk. Do you think I was mad? In hindsight, I was a jackass for being this upset. I need to put things into perspective. Like Ike.


Raina said...

You are certainly entitled to hate that skunk and by royally peeved at the situation.

Raina said...

I mean "be" peeved.