We Got Skunked

No, I do not have a third grader that just got shut out in softball, soccer, or some other sport. My kids are grown up and they didn't play many sports anyway. Plus, I could fix that with ice cream. The kind of skunked I am involves two nosy dogs and something that LOOKED like a black and white kitty but WASN'T a black and white kitty.

Also, the border collie - er, long-haired border collie - made it in the house and onto MY bed before I could catch him. He also hit the dog beds, cat beds, couches, and assorted carpets before I coaxed him back out the front door to the hose. Dogs who have been skunked run around like psychos and rub their fur on anything not moving. The cats and the little dog took cover immediately. Luckily Mike answered my call on his way home and we tackled the problem in tandem.

My Facebook friends stopped laughing long enough to tell me to "run," "sell the house," and "google it." Thanks people, for being there in an emergency. I remember someone saying boiling vinegar was a good way to rid the house of smells. It helps. The Humane Society says if you don't have dishwashing liquid and hydrogen peroxide, dilute vinegar and add some baking soda to bathe the dog. The chemist in me paused before I dumped the box into the bowl Mike was holding. Yeah. Vinegar (acid) plus baking soda (base) equals chemical reaction. "We'll clean the floor later," he said.

Both dogs got a shampoo bath, then a vinegar/baking soda bath, then into the garden tub for one more shampoo bath. I'll officially never use that thing again, btw. I finally made it to the shower. My bathroom smells like vinegar, apple (shampoo), coconut (body wash), sugar (scentsy), and spring (Febreze fabric spray and room spray). And skunk. Lots of skunk.

And that is why I'm finishing last night's Moscato, straight from the bottle.

And why is this suddenly blog-worthy when I haven't posted in months and months? I'll tell you. One, it is funny -- or it will be in a few days. And two, because I was wallowing in self-pity today. I have a head cold. I've been traveling too much. I miss my mom. In fact, yesterday I even gave an ultimatum. If you are really watching over us, Mom, why haven't I heard from you? Why didn't you help us find Lucy? Can't you send me a sign?!?!

And then came the little black and white not-a-kitty. My sinuses are clear. I was home to live through the experience (I'm pretty sure Mike would have moved away by the time I got back if I had been on the road). And, what do I have to whine about in the grand scheme of things? Why do I think my mom would be in Heaven, helping me with menial tasks, when she's got rejoicing to do? If she's going to help someone, I'd be at the bottom of the list. She gave her girls the skills to live, and I haven't been.

So, yes, I do believe Mom is watching over me, just like I believe Isaiah met her at the Gates (mostly to give St. Peter the heads up). But I also know I should be doing, not asking. Seeking, not expecting. Living, not sulking.

So, maybe this gave you a laugh. Or maybe it gave you a message.
Get floodlights for your backyard.
Straighten up and fly right.

And maybe some ice cream would make this night a little better.