Friday, July 6, 2012

When smelly things happen to good dogs

It was 1:30 in the morning. My husband was knocking on the kitchen window. He was half-dressed, wearing surgical gloves, holding a bowl of hydrogen peroxide, baking soda and vanilla extract. He said: "Quack quacks, give me some quack quacks."

Why was it 1:30 in the morning? It just was.
Why was he half-dressed? It was 1:30 in the morning and we weren't expecting guests.
The gloves? So he would be allowed back inside the house.
The mixture? From a quick search on the Internet.
The duck impersonation? Our dog treats are called Quack Quacks and he needed some for bribery purposes.

At least I didn't have to witness the death of the poor creature, but the Big E saw it all. He is strangely proud of the Mollinator. I am not. All I can think about are the adorable little black and white fuzzy babies back at the nest crying "Mama, where is my Mama?" 

First came the barking. And more barking. Then the Big E went to investigate, because night time things involving creatures in the backyard are part of the unsaid marriage vows. As he came out the door, he saw Molly in kill-stance near the apple tree. Faster than you can say Pepe Le Pew, the poor skunk was in three pieces. The piece that does its skunk thing got off a good shot before it died. The dog got hit bad. She was rolling in the grass trying to escape the consequences of her actions as Ernst got a shovel to dispose of the three pieces of black and white cuteness.

Banned from the house but having no regrets.
The girl dog and the husband are unaccountably satisfied with themselves this morning. The whole place smells really bad. Can a house be dipped in baking soda, hydrogen peroxide and vanilla extract?