Kermit got skunked last night. Which means, really, that we all got skunked last night. Why? Because stupid us let him in the house while the spray was still wet on his fur.
Not only that, but to make sure he had indeed been hit, I bent over and took a deep whiff (yes, sometimes I am amazed at my own stupidity).
Have you ever smelled fresh skunk at point blank range? If not, let me describe it for you. Take burning rubber, mix it with fresh tar, add in a big pile of horse manure, then let it bake in the desert sun for approximately three weeks, and you might have something that comes close.
By the time I recovered, our poor little pup had run up the stairs and straight into our walk-in closet. I charged up after him so fast I’m surprised I didn’t break the sound barrier. I mean, I already walk around covered in spit-up and fur—I don’t need the aroma of skunk to increase my allure.
We dumped him in the bathtub, scoured him with shampoo, conditioner and even dish soap, and still the smell was not gone. Greatly diminished, but not gone. The Internet tells me I should mix peroxide with baking soda and soak him in that…but I’m a little concerned. He’s black. Will that turn his fur blonde?
Despite my misgivings, though, I might give that a try. My vet also sells some shampoo that’s supposed to help. So I might try that too. Or I might just shave him and buy him a sweater to keep him warm this winter (kidding about that last one. Mostly).
But you know what’s even worse? My whole house reeks like a toxic waste dump. When I went home to air it out at lunch, I almost cried. Then I tried baking brownies to mask the smell (and that was the only reason. Really). But it didn’t work.
The only solution? Pack up the car, take off for a month-long vacation and hope it smells better when we get back.
What? I’m sure our employers would understand. Wouldn’t they?