Remember in the Disney movie, Bambi...how cute the little skunkie was? How non-smelly and non-attached to the nose of a big cow-dog he was? Let me tell ya, folks...real life isn't like a Disney feature-length animated film.
The night began like any other, feeding and medicating the dogs and loosing them out into the world to spread their bodily fluids about. The little dog yips, so I let him in the front door and after, oh I dunno, maybe half an hour I sniff....
Sniff....
Sniff....
And then I recognize the smell. By this time, the small dog is twirling around, chasing the ceiling fan.. he's occupied so I go to the front door and bellow for the larger dog...and I hear thud-thud-thud-thud on the porch and she wags her tail as she passes me by and I get a RIPE whiff of exactly what I thought it was...and before I can grab her, she's upstairs, ROLLING ON THE BED!!!
Death to the cow-dog and death to the fact that I had to forcibly pull her (and she's a goodly size) out of her crate and death to the fact that she wouldn't hold still in the tub and death again to the fact that she dislikes her feet getting wet which means a great deal of prancing about in the tub -which also means a great deal of Jessica falling into the stinky dog and now the Jessica smelling like a skunk ass as well!- and mostly death to the fact that she insisted on rubbing herself EVERYWHERE she could before I could actually get her into the tub.
Death to the fact that I have to be out in public, smelling god-awful and looking like hell because I stayed up and washed the dog 29 times because in a house full of soy and rye chips, there isn't one drop of tomato juice to be found. ANYWHERE!!
And, finally...death to being at work and reeking like wet dog and skunk. There's NOTHING worse in the world.
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