Many dog owners have been there.
You peak your head out the door, call for your lovey-dovey babooshka pup, and suddenly, your nostril hairs sting, curl up, and die while tears run down your face. The putrid stench of Pepe’ Le Pew invades your sinus cavities. As the horror dawns on you that your loving pot-hound may be the culprit, fur touches your legs. Your throbbing eyes stare down in terrified revulsion as your beloved poochie-pie flops down and begins to wriggle and roll all over your legs and feet. You could swear you are screaming, yet the stink bomb before you refuses to subsist in sharing the wonderful revelry of scent-reward with your skin, clothes, and shoes. NOW what do you do?
Never fear! I am now your OFFICIAL hero! The solution to your repugnant quandary is right at the end of this blog! I’ve the sure-fire formula that beats any amount of tomato sauce or vinegar you could possibly use, and the dog can come back in the house!
If you are hurriedly searching Google for a real solution, peering behind foggy eyes, cursing under your breath, and pushing sweaty hair out of your face while your dog pounces around in joy outside, rolling on everything you hold dear and yelping in pride at the lovely situation you’re forced to face, please skip my story…for now. Stay on this page, and scroll to the bottom for the recipe. Handle your mutt-ola, then when you can relax (even though that abominable rankness has moved into your schnozzle for a stay), come back, read, and laugh. Hopefully your mood will improve.
If you are just reading along, then laugh at me. Because I’ve been through it twice in the past 5 months, and I have a house dog. Ugh, right?
Meet Astrid!
a.k.a. Boogie-woo, Boobie-bear, Lovey-loo, Bear-bear, Diva Dawg, Mooginess, Brattola, Woogie-woo, Woofie-woo, Appid, Moogie-moo…well, you get the point! She is the family fluffy-wuffy, floofie-fancy, blingy-wingy foo-foo dog. And your typically authoritative, loving, protective, endearing, stupidly brave Miniature Schnauzer.
She stealthily stalks the lowly lizard, bravely pounces upon the gyrating June bug, protects us from the ferocious froggies, bungles after the bouncing bunnies, viciously chases the daring deer, and vacuously hounds the sickening skunk! Also on the list of her arch nemeses are the horse, cow, llama, and goat. Alas, my 13 pound dog fears absolutely nothing!
Now here is our conundrum. My personal preference is that she be my little diva princess. I adorn her collar with the sparkliest of fake diamonds and rinse her in special water to make her smell lovely. I weekly bathe her with whitening shampoo and allow her trimmings to grow long so that she is my fluffy little movie-star dog. I love to feel her soft fur and compare her beauty to other dogs and feel as though she is the Miss Universe of the diva mutts. I dress her up for special occasions and crochet clothes and headbands for her. I prefer to have her fancy.
Astrid, however, doesn’t always agree. And my family loves to watch as the disagreement unfolds. Her refusal to agree to disagree with the funky, musty varmint who lurks near our country home would almost be the perfect example except for one thing: the family doesn’t find the nauseating aroma involved as humorous as most situations until it has been taken care of.
The two met one dark, warm December evening in the flower beds.
Unfortunately, this weasel vermin is not associated with the adorable, well-mannered “Flower” who sweetly met Bambi in a flower bed. Oh no, this putrid pest is wild…and unfortunately aggressive and accurately aiming as they come. I found out the hard way, and Astrid found out the fun way.
One second she is growling with her fur standing on end and the next she is diving into the flowerbeds, ignoring my insistent shouts that she avoid danger and immediately return.
She rounds the corner and disappears as the fear rises in my chest, wondering what my dog, in her bullet-proof opinion, is impulsively chasing after this time. Suddenly, I smell what seems to be a smoldering inferno. As I round the corner I see Astrid snorting and gagging, rubbing her face in the dirt. The smell is so overwhelmingly full of sulfur that I am beginning to think that the house is on fire when suddenly, the putrid smell of anal glands assaults my senses and I am forced to scoop up my Wondermutt and sprint to shelter!
During my escape, Astrid lovingly licks my face and rubs her bearded head all over every surface available to her on my body. I fight back the urge to vomit as I realize that this bloody beast has sprayed my lovely Looby-loo all in her face and beard!
Long story (yeah I know, too late!) short, I realized the hard way that four cans of tomato paste and two bottles of vinegar doesn’t even begin to diminish the putrudity I was desperately fighting to quell. By this point, the entire family was diving through Google results trying to find a different method. My wonderful mother, in her normal “saves the day” fashion, bestowed the online solution, and I perfected the method with my own little touches. After this, the smell was gone! I also used this formula on my clothes and in the shower. I had to use someone else to “test smell” everything, however, because my nose was stained so exceedingly with that deplorable scent that I couldn’t differentiate anything other than “Odeur Le Pourrissant”. And so, without further ado, I bequeath to you a priceless home remedy for free! Aren’t I just the sweetest?
Skunk-be-Gone Shampoo Paste
With enough baking soda and peroxide to soak your dog in twice, blend into a thick paste.
Rub vigorously (that will probably naturally occur by this point anyway) into the fur and skin and allow to set five minutes. Rinse thoroughly.
Mix shampoo of your choice in the remaining portion until it lathers on your dog. Soak your dog in this for as long as possible; at least 8 minutes if you can.
Rinse thoroughly, and follow with your choice of shampoo. Bathe as usual.
If possible, have someone who is not as affected by the smell test the situation. I suppose you could put this solution up your nose, but I wouldn’t recommend it. I will assume you are wise enough to follow this advice. Sadly, however, because you choose to do what is sane, you will smell nothing differently for a whole day or more.
Good luck, and if you do have to use this, you’re welcome, and it sucks to be you now!
The Crochet Goddess 