The Problem "Child"

He's not a child.  He's a dog.  A beautiful, sweet bloodhound.

How can he be the vortex to so much TROUBLE this week?!

Over the weekend, he hauled an animal part (large leg bone?) back home from the creek.  It was gross.  Rancid.  Smelly.  Pretty awful. 

Our dogs stay in their dog yard most of the time.  It's a large fenced area (larger than most city yards), and they have the indoor run of the broadside of the barn as well.  Even with all that space, I like to let them out in the pasture/creek area in the mornings and evenings for exercise and to remind the circling coyotes and foxes that yes, the domesticated canines have the run of the property.

A couple of days ago, just after the dead leg recovery, Beau the bloodhound romped down to the creek and brought back another treasure: the skull of the dead animal whose leg he had so proudly retrieved a day or so earlier.  It was awful: he wanted to show me his prize, and I was running backwards trying to keep out of physical contact with Beau.  Listeria!  Rabies! Awful germs that I don't know about but am afraid of anyway!  Beau had a hurt expression on his face when I was running backwards and screaming "No!  No!  No!"   

I have yet to find that skull in the dog yard. It is too awful for me to come to terms with, just yet.

I took the pups out this beautiful morning, at 6:30 am.  The pasture grass is up to my knees now, green as green can be.  I have my little mown path around the pasture, and the pups and I went down towards the creek.

Along that fence, on the creek side, the grass is even taller.  I saw something just on the other side of the fence - just a puff of black, a few inches higher than the grass.  Beau spotted it just when I did, and whoosh! over the fence he went to get a better look.


He took a direct hit from the skunk.

I suffered collateral damage.   

I came right back to the house and threw off my clothes (they are lying in the grotto; I may burn them.) and grabbed my vet friend Cate's remedy for all things skunk: dish detergent, baking soda, and hydrogen peroxide.  I showered and I can't smell it on me.  Paul couldn't smell it on me.  While I was showering and scrubbing, Beau made his way back to our yard and circled the house several times.  Eau de Skunk filtered into house.  I did vet friend Cate's other trick - the same one we flight attendants used to do for inflight vomit: coffee grounds in the oven @ 200º.  (Well, we flight attendants just poured fresh coffee grounds on the target spot on the plane, we didn't put grounds in the oven.)  And then?  I vacated the house for three hours.

Oh - and Beau?  Poor Beau.  I have yet to bathe that nasty hound dog.  That's on tonight's agenda.

Blech.