The Occasional Solipsist

St. Catharines is full of skunks.

I mean just fucking rotten with them.

We see them sometimes on our late night walks, darting underneath a porch or across a street, not running so much as moving with a purpose, they knowing full well that only an idiot would fuck with a skunk.

It turns out our dog Maya isn't too bright.

We let her out for her nightly ritual last night, and about 5 minutes later the worst smell I have ever encountered came wafting in through the door, letting us know that not only had she gotten into an altercation with a skunk, but that she had gotten into an altercation with a skunk and lost.

Recently Superwife and I watched an episode of Mythbusters (on the Discovery Channel) where the guys were trying to get a skunk to spray them and they went through three separate skunks before deciding that skunks must only spray when they are really pissed, because none of them would so much as sneeze at them.

Apparently Maya has methods of intimidation that the Mythbusters don't possess.

The poor thing got doused by the little bastard, along with my entire backyard, effectively putting a damper on our evening and hers.

It was only after a very thorough cleaning of a concoction our vet told us about that she was even allowed back in the house. And that after she had to spend her first night outside in her life.

The silver lining to my poor dog getting hosed with noxious fumes: My sister came over to help me shampoo Maya, and in the proces got her clothes completely soiled, leaving me the opportunity to outfit her in whatever we had handy.

So I now have a picture of my little sister, wife of a wealthy Italian businessman, who would normally not set foot out of the house without doing her hair and nails first, in a pair of trackpants, mismatched blue sneakers and a glittery superman shirt.

Needless to say, anything she may have previously been able to blackmail me with has been effectively nullified.

Labels: family