Skunked

We have this dog. His name is Jack. He's white, he's fluffy and he's cute. He's been part of our family for six years now. Ever since he was a puppy. Mostly he's a really, really good dog; but every once in a while he finds himself in a heap of trouble. Like the time we came home from church to find chocolate wrappers strewn about the house. Or the time he ran through the neighbors yard to play with their horse. (Which, incidentally, did NOT want to play back.) And there's also the spell he went through where he felt so inclined to poo on the floor right beside Hub's side of the bed. Daily, almost. We never figured that issue out. But are relieved it's over.

This weekend he decided to trump all the above stunts. Every evening, as part of our bedtime ritual, we put him outside for one final potty break. And it is usually rather uneventful. This time, however, there just so happened to be a skunk meandering through the area. As soon as my nose picked up it's scent I hollered to Hubs, "Get the dog in...get the dog in!!!!" In three seconds flat Jack rounded the corner to which I screamed, "Get the dog out...get the dog out!!!" Too late. Jack had tangoed with said skunk. And proceeded to bring the terrible odor indoors. My house is presently contaminated. Our clothes, our carpets, our belongings. All christened with a scent of stink. It's rather fabulous. Stink-tabulous, even. Especially when your in town around people and your odor catches their nose. Nothing like drawing attention to yourself.

Poor Jack...he just doesn't know what's good for him. He may be a great dog...but he sure is a stinky one at the moment.