Again?!

On Thursday night, Ken got up around 5 am (is that night or morning? Either way it was still very dark out and I had been, until that moment, fast asleep). “What’s wrong?” I asked. His back was twinging a bit because he’d been carrying our new deck furniture, a gift from my brother, up and down a ladder, to put it on our balcony because it was too big to take through the house.

“I’m going downstairs to read,” he said.

“Take the dog with you,” I said. Imagine at this point that there was ominous thunder rumbling in the distance. There actually WAS thunder—I guess I should have paid more attention.

I fell back asleep quickly and I was just in the middle of a lovely dream involving clocks and puppies when my subconscious sensed that something was terribly, horribly wrong and I sat bolt upright. I breathed in deeply, smelled that familiar noxious odour and knew that my subconscious was correct. I leapt out of bed and ran downstairs yelling, “Don’t let the dog out!!” Ken was standing in the brightly lit kitchen, mixing up something in a plastic bowl. He stared at me.

Me: Did you let the dog out?
Ken: Yes, but he’s back in now…
Me: Please don’t tell me he got sprayed by a skunk!
Ken: I can’t tell you that because he got sprayed by a skunk.
Me: Again?! OMG, is he okay? Where is he?
Ken: I locked him in the bathroom. I’m mixing up the peroxide, baking soda, and soap.
Me: F*ck. I was really hoping you’d just made coffee.

Alas no. The palpable stench was not from the devil’s brew; it was from the nocturnal demon that Atlas had decided to chase and confront at 5 am. After he’d been washed with the skunk remover, showered, and dried, I had a word with him:

Me: What were you thinking?!
Atlas: I thought Ilana had escaped. I was just trying to help.
Me: She hasn’t been here for weeks! What the hell is wrong with you?
Atlas: IT WAS DARK. I WAS TIRED.
Me: Well, you’re still a stinky pants.
Atlas: Smells just like coffee. MMMM.

He’s lucky he’s adorable. Smelly and dumb, but adorable.

31 thoughts on “Again?!”

  2. Omg this is too funny. Poor Atlas just trying to do his canine duty and protect his humans….and Ilana of course, lol. Devils brew, I love it and I drink it every day, can’t start my day without it. Makes me wonder though how you came to loathe it so much? 🤔

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  3. Oh, no! When we first moved to Washington state, I smelled a lot of skunk odor on the roads–or just walking around neighborhoods, but I never saw any skunks–dead or otherwise–and when I mentioned this to Nate and Alex, they started snickering. There are other sources for skunk smells 🙂 I hope Atlas is feeling fresh and clean soon.

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  4. As much as I appreciate Ken leaping into action mixing the anti-skunk potion surely he could have taken a moment to get the coffee going as well. It doesn’t usually take that much attention, unless you’ve got a French press or an espresso maker or if your morning coffee is one of those big fancy coffee drinks with whipped cream and syrup. Those things take so much attention Ken would probably get some soap in there by mistake.

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  5. Portland Oregon is further north than Toronto Canada. In fact, parts of Canada are further south than the most northern parts of California. When you mentioned dark at 5 am, I figured, Canada, land of midnight summer sun — dark? And here at 5 am it’s dawn and too damn bright by a dozen candelas. So, I had to look it up. Sorry I doubted you.
    Maybe next time Atlas returns home smelling of skunk it’ll be due to chasing rabbits through fields of marijuana.

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  8. Great story! And, sorry to say, coffee does smell like skunk–to me, only very faintly, like, oh, I bet a skunk got ran over a couple miles away. What? I don’t smell it. Yeah, you do. Oh yeah, now I do. What’s puzzling me is why anybody likes coffee at all. But we do. Or, I should say, those among us who feel a kinship with the skunk. Just a little bit.

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