A more recent story involves skunks. To an outsider, "Boston" and "skunks" seems like a contradiction, but they're everywhere in Eastie. I saw one within my first few nights of living in East Boston. You see them only at night, in fact, but you see them relatively often.
The Wife heard a story at the dog park up the hill about the skunks. Supposedly, the skunks were brought in by the city to control the rat population. Maybe they've had success with that. I have yet to see a rat in Boston.
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| Join the smelly side, Daisy. |
There is, however, another mammalian in East Boston, and it was always likely they would meet. Daisy Duke is an affable chocolate Lab who is prone to late-night bowel antics. In Portland, Maine, she made a habit of tearing after squirrels, often into traffic, just to say hi to the things. I honestly don't think she would ever bite another living animal. She's that tame.
Unfortunately, to a 2-year-old Lab, squirrels and skunks kind of look alike. And they both have names that star with the letter "S." Daisy Duke has been well aware of the Eastie skunk population. Daisy Duke goes for a quick walk to the park around 1 a.m. on nights I get home from work. She has seen the skunks, oh yes. She's just so damn curious about them. Do they want to race her? Play fetch against her? It's just so different.
It was inevitable that the two great forces, Daisy Duke and the Skunk, would collide. Like Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker, they were drawn to each other.
Last night, at 1:10 a.m., I left the house to take Daisy Duke on her nightly constitutional. The Wife had gone to bed early, leaving the late-night chore to us. That's not unusual, but some nights are easier than others.
As we approached the park, I did my usual skunk check. I smelled. No skunk. Then I made the critical error. I let Daisy Duke off her leash.
Daisy Duke took off like a laser-guided missile. The skunk was about 75 feet to our right and, at 1 a.m., the city lights don't light every corner of the park. Time went into slow motion for me.
"Well, I always figured this was going to happen," I thought.
The skunk wasn't quite facing my dog as Daisy Duke slowed her approach. There was a 1-second pause, a slight hissing sound, then DD skittered away, confused. What the hell is that thing?
Then she smelled it.
I couldn't smell it. But you could just tell. Daisy almost immediately flopped (and when I say flopped, I mean she threw herself) onto the ground. Thankfully, it had just rained and the grass was wet. She writhed for a minute. She got up. She looked at the skunk. "My God. What the hell is that thing?"
She ran a little farther away and flopped. And writhed. Got up. Flopped. And writhed. She was inconsolable, not that I was trying to do any consoling. She'd gotten herself into this mess and I was content to let her writhe on wet grass as long as she was willing.
After about 5 minutes, I texted TW. "Your dog got sprayed by a skunk."
Then, a follow-up: "It doesn't smell nearly as bad as you think it would."
That was true. I don't know if it was a young skunk or a whole-grain, organic-food-only skunk, or if the skunk had somehow missed spraying Daisy Duke. The smell was only about a fifth, maybe one-tenth as bad as you think it's going to be.
Still. It was bad and it would not (WILL not) go away.
Back at home, TW was Googling "deskunk a dog." Always great in a crisis, she also updated her Facebook status to let the world know what she was Googling. TW's Best Friend just had a baby and was all over the post at 4 a.m. Dislike.
I arrived around 1:30. The bedroom doors were closed. Contain the damage. TW found a cleansing recipe for skunk smell. It called for hydrogen peroxide. A couple of things struck me funny about this de-skunking recipe:
1. You can't mix it ahead of time because it can explode. Like with fire and such.
2. You can't leave it in the dog's hair for long because it will bleach it.
The good thing about living in Eastie: It takes about 2 minutes to get to Walgreens, which is open 24 hours. Also, hydrogen peroxide costs $1.50 for a pint, cheaper than beer. I bought five.
Back at home, TW was naked. Normally, this is a very good thing. But here's the thing about the de-skunking process. You don't want to smell like skunk and you don't want your clothes bleached. I joined her, because dog bathing is a two-person job in the best of circumstances. Least sexy duel nudity in history. Sorry, Mom.
Daisy Duke did something she never does: She jumped into the tub. Normally, she despises baths and has to be airlifted into the vessel. Not at 1:40 a.m. after a skunk attack.
The mixture of hydrogen peroxide, baking soda and dish soap was applied, rubbed in, and rinsed out. Daisy Duke was then given a regular soap-and-water rinse. Then she was banished to her crate for the evening.
We were laughing almost the entire time, aided by the fact that, blessedly, it didn't stink that much. We've seen far, far worse.
If we can glean a positive, other than the fact I got to see TW naked, it is the attitude adjustment in Daisy Duke. TW reports that DD was very hesitant to go outside this morning. That's just as well. We don't need to add any more episodes to the lore of Boston.
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