Libby’s Nose for Trouble

It started out as an ordinary night. Libby wanted to go outside around 10:00 p.m. (Yes, she does that sometimes). I sighed, getting up from my comfortable bed where I’d been watching “Extraordinary Attorney Woo” on Netflix. I noticed Libby seemed especially frantic about getting out the door, yipping, circling, and doing her high-pitched aria as I put on her leash. She zoomed outside. And that’s when I smelled it.

A skunk.

“Oh God, Libby, do your business quick,” I pleaded as the dog tugged at the end of her leash and barked frantically. “Please don’t get sprayed.”

Living in Connecticut, our pets have each been doused by skunks over the years, and trust me, it’s an unforgettable experience. Once they’re inside, the odor expands like a heavy vapor forcefield, so strong you can taste it. After all, it is a defense mechanism. I’d have to go buy ‘Skunk Off’ from the vet and bathe them–a wet, messy affair, especially fun with cats. Even still, the odor lives for days. 

This night, too distracted with barking at the skunk, Libby took her time to tinkle. She’d circle and trot. She’d go into position and realize the skunk needed more lecturing. 

Meanwhile, the odor grew stronger. Finally, after five long minutes, she did her business.

I sighed with relief and eagerly held open the door for her. Except there was one problem: Libby’s leash had caught on a protruding rock, about ten feet from the house. Usually, her long leash  glided over this one obstacle with no problem. Except when we had torrential rain, raging blizzards, strong winds—or a skunk. That’s when Libby got caught, every time. 

I had to go out there.

I put on rubber boots I keep by the door and crept out in my bathrobe. This January night was frigid and windswept. Making loud noises, I hoped Mr. Skunk would get the message and run away. I hurried over to the leash and bent to loosen it. Rustling sounds came from a nearby bush. What if we’re both sprayed? I pictured us having to sleep in the attic or basement, no one in our family coming near us for days. 

After some tugging, her leash finally came loose. Libby turned one more time to bark at the skunk. “And another thing”, I imagined her saying, but I held this Yorkie firm and heaved her back into the house. 

Closing the door, I leaned against it, and took a deep breath. Thankfully, no trip to the vet was needed. I wouldn’t have to bathe in ‘Skunk Off.’ Libby looked up as if to say, that was fun. Let’s do it again.

I sighed and went back to Attorney Woo.

 

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