TMI - A Barkley Bedtime Tail

I let Barkley out late last night after a "quiet" evening at home. I wasn't up to writing a new post, just some down time with a book and some tea. Then with a noise and a yelp, something hit me (and Barkley) with all the subtlety of a brick. A smell. Skunk. Bad.

Before I could even get the door closed I could smell it on my skin. That brought back memories. And not good ones. About this time a couple of years ago. About 8 o'clock . Barkley was growling and barking at the door. I figured it was his arch enemy, Tactical Squirrel, so I let him out and he went running out back towards the woods, barking fiercely. This wasn't a squirrel, who he barks at almost with laughter, but something bigger and unknown to him. Something he perceived as a real threat.

He charged at the woods with no fear, and no quarter, only to get sprayed by our equivalent of a WMD. . . a big Midwest skunk.

Fortunately his enemy's aim was off and he he didn't get it in the face, but Barkley was still seriously stinky. Enough to make us both tear up. I called a friend who raises hunting dogs to see what I should do. I'd heard that using tomato juice will get rid of the smell. After his wife quit laughing, they told me NOT to use tomato juice to get rid of the smell but to use something that works much better . . . . well, there's just no politically correct way to say this. . . to use feminine hygiene douche. Apparently it guess it works real well on . . . well you get my drift.

So I put Barkley in his run and make the dash to CVS about 9 PM to buy about 20 boxes of the stuff, enough to add to the water in the bathrub. The girl at the counter is looking at all the boxes, then at me. and a a strange puzzled look comes on her face and she says "uh - my, you're certainly buying a lot of this tonight". Of course, by way of explaination I say quite cheerily. . . . ."Oh, it's for my dog."

She couldn't get me out of the store fast enough.

Barkley took his "bath" and almost smelled, well, "springtime fresh". Almost. But not enough where I wanted him on his bed in my room, so I put him in the basement, on a nest of an old, comfy, washable bedspread. After about 30 minutes, I heard the gentle whine coming up through the heating ducts. A dearth-like moan of loneliness. So despite a smell that could only be described as "Eau de French Brothel", I let Barkley , damp and still a bit in shock, come up and sleep near me on the old little couch which is his favorite spot.


After all, he took the blast from the skunk simply trying to protect me and his home from an intruder. Frankly, he would have gone up against a Grizzly to protect me. Without hesitating about it, weighing the options or thinking "what's in this for me?" All he asked in return was love, and my company.

I sit tonight, at an old fashioned computer, at an old fashioned desk. Harley the Hedgehog and a glass of Irish Whiskey and water sit nearby as I get ready for a week I'm not going to enjoy and it really sinks in.

Those that truly love us, do so as we are, without expectations or demands. They forgive human frailty; they embrace our joys and they share the sorrows. I have friends like that, gathering around me now. I have had dogs like that. Dogs are simple, give them your loyalty and affection and they will give you theirs. Sometimes it takes nothing more than a bout with Pepe' Le Pew to remind me of all that they do for us and how lucky we are to have them.

But I am probably going to avoid that CVS from now on