Biggie is a very attentive dog. He knows what is going on around him at all times, even if he
appears to be sleeping. For instance, I
was in the kitchen doing some dishes and other kitchen maintenances while
Biggie was asleep in the living room.
At one point I was wiping down the outside of the refrigerator, rinsing
out the cleaning cloth, and continuing to wipe down the refrigerator. Biggie did nothing. But the moment I touched the refrigerator
door handle, Biggie was under my feet waiting for me to open it. Somehow he knew when I touched that handle,
and he knew I was about to open it. It
didn’t matter that I had been grabbing that handle for the last ten minutes
during the cleaning process. The big
difference was that I was about to use that handle to open the
refrigerator. Biggie is like that, and
if you have a dog, you know exactly what I mean.
Biggie’s adventures are usually rather benign, but
occasionally there is something to write home about. If I were to tell you that an average day’s adventure consists of
sniffing every blade of grass on a walk around the block, or standing in one
place sniffing a single spot for fifteen minutes, it would be somewhat boring
since this is what all dogs do. It
might be a bit more interesting if we went to the park and he chased a squirrel
or two, but again, this is what all dogs do.
Just about anything I could come up with to talk about concerning Biggie
is what all dogs do, including his brief encounter with a skunk. Almost all dogs encounter a skunk at one
time or another, but unlike chasing a squirrel up a tree, some of these
encounters can be rather memorable.
Last night Biggie walked over to the front door and scraped
his back foot. Then he walked over to
where I was sitting and placed his nose against my leg for a moment before
walking back to the door. This is a
signal to me he wants to go for a walk, so I decided to take him out (believe
me when I say it’s better than deciding not to take him out). When I opened the door Biggie ran over to my
wife signaling he wanted her to join us.
Okay. So all of us stepped
outside together.
Now, usually when Biggie goes outside, he is wearing a
harness and leash, but this time I decided to forego the hassle, since he
doesn’t run away except to inspect something nearby. Even then he will come back the moment we call him. Besides, I was going to make this a quick
whiz in the yard. As we stepped onto
the porch, there was a rustling in the bushes along side of the house, and
Biggie ran over to inspect. I saw a
flash of something black and white, and my first thought was of the neighbor’s
cat that Biggie wanted for a friend, but then I saw it turn around and the tail
raise high into the air. Biggie had
just come face to tail with his first skunk.
Biggie froze, the skunk ran away around the corner of the house, and
there was no doubt that skunk left something behind.
Although Biggie took the full force of the blast, my wife
and I were peripheral casualties. My
wife immediately picked Biggie up and carried him into the house for a bath,
and now the entire house has been transformed into a skunk’s den. Oh well.
I mixed up a batch of anti-skunk-odor dog wash and Biggie got a
bath. My wife got a bath. I got a bath. Our clothes are hanging outside in the fresh air, although they
may need to be burned. And our
house… Our house has every window open
and every fan on. And the smell outside
the house will insure no solicitor comes to our front door for a while.
This morning Biggie altered his morning walk to include the
infected area around the house where he thoroughly marked his territory. Again on a second walk, he double marked his
territory. This is Biggie’s house, and
skunks aren’t welcome.
What is it about dogs and skunks? Growing up in farm country, every dog I knew had managed to spend
some time in a tomato juice bath in a futile attempt to diminish the effects of
the encounter with a skunk. I have
never known a dog to win the battle. My
friend Frank’s dog once thought he had managed to become victorious, but in the
end he was the biggest loser of all, along with the entire neighborhood.
Chunk was a solid dog, much like a pit bull, and he was very
curious, as many dogs are. About three
or four blocks away from the block where Frank and I lived across the street
from each other was a small area of scrub oak trees on a piece of land not yet
cleared for new housing. This was a
great place for my friends and I to go and pretend we were hunters or
something. Usually one of the guy's
dogs would join us, and on one fateful day it was Chunk who was the chosen one.
Chunk was doing Chunk things when I heard Rick or Mike or
someone shout something. About that
time I saw Chunk running down the street towards home holding some object in
his mouth. Behind Chunk were several
skunks giving chase. Behind the skunks
was Frank frantically chasing after his dog.
I know once a skunk releases his stuff, there is very little
left for a second shot, although very little goes a long ways. And the skunk in Chunks mouth had
reinforcements not far behind. I’ve
never experienced anything quite like this before or since. People were coming out of their houses for
several blocks and fanning the air as they looked around for the source of the
problem.
Chunk ran for several blocks before releasing his captive,
and then he went into hiding not fully realizing his location was easy to sniff
out. As quickly as he would find a good
spot, someone would chase him away. The
problem was he would leave behind strong evidence that he had been there. For a couple of days Chunk broadcast his
adventure around the neighborhood before returning home. As for the skunks themselves, it seems they
informed the neighborhood for several weeks they were not to be disturbed in
the future.
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