by F. Etz

Based on actual events. Names have been changed to protect the identity of the victims.

Part 3 of 4.In the first two parts of the story, the dog, Lepper, was skunked. Not just skunked, but full-in-the-face, 5:30-in-the-morning, haven't-had-my-coffee-yet skunked. Author F. Etz relays the quick fall-out of what started out to be an easy, scrumptious day, as she unthinkingly brings the skunked dog into the house ... only to realize too late that she has not only spread the odor through the house, but a sprayed-in-the-face dog will vomit on the carpet, making everything worse. If you've already read parts 1 & 2, continue the story here. If you haven't, click the links to Read Part 1 and Part 2.


I make a list of what needs done. First on my list, de-skunk the dog. I grab her old leash, take her outside and tie her to the basketball pole in the driveway. She knows what this means. She sulks. She hates to get bathed. She has no choice. She still stinks. I mix Rory's concoction of hydrogen peroxide, baking soda, and Dawn in the light blue bucket. It foams. It bubbles. It makes me laugh. Bubbles! I love bubbles!

I wipe Lepper down, coating her with the thick foam of bubbles. She shakes. Now it's all over me! Stupid Dog! My neighbor, "Rhoda," pulls up in her SUV. I tell her what's happened. She, too, has been through the awful ordeal of de-skunking a dog. She rattles off the same ingredients that Rory has revealed to me. Wonderful! This recipe must be a miracle. Two people I know have used it.

I get back to work on the dog. I rinse her off. She shakes again before I can get out of her way. I'm sweating. It's got to be 100 plus degrees in the driveway.

All I can think of is my hair. Tonight we are supposed to get our family portrait taken for the church directory.

I need to have a good hair day. Now I'm a sweaty mess! I can't think about that now. My dog needs me. My house needs me. I have to pull myself together! I start to think about how nice it would be to sit down and have a cup of coffee, brewed from my brand new Mr. Coffee, 12-Cup, Programmable Coffee Make. But I can't stop. I have to keep working.

The task of washing the dog is complete. I reluctantly bend down to smell her. I'm afraid. fear is racing through my brain. My heart is pounding. My stomach hurts (I might have had gas). I take a whiff of Lepper. I'm amazed. She smells like Dawn dish soap! I rejoice! Success! I thank God. But I'm still not done. My day is far from over.

Second on my list is the living room carpet where Lepper got sick. I go back into the house. The smell hits me as soon as I open the kitchen door. I don't want to go in, but I must. I mix up a new concoction of baking soda and laundry detergent that I found on the Internet. I start scrubbing the affected area of the carpet. I rinse it. Now I need to bend down and smell it.

Sweat is pouring off of my head and face. Again, I think about my hair. I don't want to have to re-do it for the family portrait. I push that thought out of my mind. I smell the carpet. YUCK - this one doesn't work so well. I still smell skunk. I decide to douse it with baking soda and let it sit for a while. I don't know what else to do.

Third on my list is the kitchen floor. I mix a solution of vinegar and Pine Sol. Not a recipe that I got off of the Internet. Just one that I concocted myself in hopes of a fresher smelling house. I start to mop. Now I'm really sweating. I try my best to keep my hopes up. I wonder if this is all for not. I continue mopping the floor. The girls have ditched me. Only the dog watches my every move. She looks like she is sorry. Or maybe still sick to her stomach. I can't tell. All hope is fading. It's no use. I still smell skunk. The Pine Sol and vinegar solution did not mask the odor. I have to give up for now. It's late in the afternoon.

Read Part 4