I have had dogs since I was thirteen, and in all those years I have never, not once have had one of those dogs skunked.  Then there was Hazel.  As of this fine and rainy evening Hazel has been skunked four…FOUR…times.  Obviously, my lovely, sweet, Golden Retriever is not one to learn from experience.

I would accept the blame if perhaps she had been skunked because I allowed her to run through some back forty uninhibited, but no that has not been the case.  Each and every time she has been in our backyard.  Our teeny, tiny city backyard that is devoid of anything remotely appealing to skunk-kind.  Unfortunately, our backyard seems to have become a skunk thorough fare from possibly a safe haven (a grassy alley way) to a food source (an inconsiderate neighbour’s pile of garbage), and in that thorough fare my enthusiastic dog occasional dwells.  You would think after the first or possibly the second time she might have figured out the consequence of dog to skunk confrontation, and even being slow on the uptake with visual recognition would know to run away.  Nope, no, definitely not.  She has gotten it full in the face every single time.

I think the worst thing about dealing with the dog being skunked, is that people lie.  There are multiple suggestions but there is nothing that removes the smell.  If you try the smell neutralizing remedies you end up with a dog that smells like skunk, wet dog, and whatever you rubbed in their fur.  The wafting stench climbs up the stairs and invades my nostrils. (deep sigh) There will be no escape from the smell tonight, even with the dog ostracized to the kitchen.  Stupid dog.