Category Archives: Dogs

Skunk – 2, Dogs – 0

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We decided to attempt another run Tuesday morning .. our first since Saturday afternoon.

(In both of our attempts to get back in shape and tone up, pathetic.  I know.  But it is what it is right now.  Plus, we weren’t sure it was safe or that we were ready for another trip down the road.  At least that’s the story we’re going with.)

DSC02163

“Should we take the dogs,” said the Cowboy?

“Might as well,” I said.

…………….

I’m pretty sure, thanks to the sage advice (and sorry that so many of you know all too well the answer to this) of many, many friends, the skunk smell is gone.  But I also haven’t put my nose quite close enough to the area of impact to really investigate if we’re totally in the clear.

Within moments of posting the last entry here this past Saturday, the Cowboy and I took off on our usual run down the road.  Not thinking anything about the dogs running ahead, because that is what they usually do, we were talking and laughing and overall trying to focus on our breathing as the South Dakota winter winds sometimes make that a challenge.. when out of the corner of my eye, I saw it.

I had seen it days before ambling down the road and swerved to avoid hitting it.   The last thing I wanted to deliberately do was hit a skunk with my car and have the smell in my car.  Apparently, that was the wrong thing to do.  Because it was now in a standoff with our black lab and the smell going to come home with me anyway.

Lab #1 not sure what to do, stood about a half a foot away, wanting to play as it usually does with small critters.  In the back of her mind, we could tell she knew it might not be a wise thing to do.  I screamed.  Then Cowboy and I started shouting her name at the top of our lungs, ‘Get out of there!’  Slowly but surely, the skunky turned around, and sprayed.  (It would have been a hilarious scene, I’m quite certain, had anyone been around to see it.)

As dog #1 ran toward us for help or, just ran toward us .. dog #2 reappeared out of the ditch.  Foaming, it seemed, at the mouth.  I grabbed her collar thinking we needed to keep her from seeing the skunk too or she’d go after it.  Not realizing, she had already been sprayed – in and around her mouth – hence the foam/massive amounts of spit & drool that were now doing their best to try and help her rinse the stench out.

We ran home and I spent the better part of the weekend giving peroxide/baking soda/Dawn dish soap sponge baths.

Out of about 100 Facebook responses (thank you everyone for being so quick to help!) for how best to get skunk spray off of a dog, most seemed to echo this answer, in case we ever need it again:

1 box baking soda, small bottle of hydrogen proxied, small amount of dish soap (dawn works well). Mix together with water in a gallon bucket of water. Sponge down the hound let it sit for 15 minutes rinse & repeat if oder lingers. This method may tenporaly bleach the coat.  Vinegar and water in a bucket works fairly well too…might take a little longer.

Tomato juice is a temporary fix…the odor will return, posted this particular writer.  His sentiments echoed by many.  We stayed away from tomato juice.  I could just picture the dogs shaking that off and having tomato juice to clean up everywhere as well.

…………….

We, and the dogs, have not gone back down the road for a run, since.  Until today.

Ready to run ..

Ready to run ..

While I pray we never have another up close and personal skunk encounter ..

The dogs seem far more determined now, to find it rather than avoid it.  The two looked like they were on a mission.   Paybacks, we are guessing, is going on in their little minds.  Who knows.  But because I’m not giving up running, I’m thinking it will probably be a good idea to stock up on the essentials.

Adding to this week’s grocery list:  More Hydrogen peroxide.  Baking soda.  Dawn dish soap.  

The Dogs: Indoor vs Outdoor

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I might have sat down to write last night ..

Pasture Run

But the mess we came home to after a couple of birthday parties for family and friends kept me busy for far too long.  There will be no photos of it.

“I’ve said this before.  The dogs need to be outside,” says the Cowboy.  “Dogs belong outside.”

He went to bed.  I, for over an hour, cleaned up a trail of foul smelling excrement throughout the house.  Our four kids all huddled in the one bedroom upstairs that didn’t need cleaning and fell asleep.

…………….

“If you don’t own a dog, at least one, there is not necessarily anything wrong with you, but there may be something wrong with your life.”
― Roger Caras

……………..

How many ranches have indoor dogs?  Not many, I believe.

Yellow on the Bench

The Cowboy has never had an indoor dog, hates the hair in the house, can’t stand that one of my dog sneaks as often as it can onto the bed to nap and hates coming home to a mess (one of our pups can not leave anything alone that might be left on the kitchen counter, including butter, which in turn makes her sick.  Have you ever smelled dog vomit after they’ve downed a stick of butter?  Not cool.  I still don’t know what caused last nights unbelievable mess.)

I can’t say that I blame him.  I’m not a fan of it either.

But I’m used to it, I guess.  I have had indoor dogs all my life and don’t see where there are issues that can’t easily be overlooked or overcome.  I’ve cleaned up accidents and illnesses since I was old enough to take on the responsibility and .. I have until now, always lived within city limits and not wanted a dog to bug the neighbors with its barking.  Plus people that live in towns/cities tend to think if you leave your dog out for any length of time or take your dog anywhere in the car with you it’s their job to call Animal Control.  Somehow that dog is being abused or abandoned, I’m thinking is their typical most educated guess on the subject.  I have to say, my dogs would any day, rather go with me and sit in the car for hours on end than stay home if I give her the choice.  They otherwise just appreciate being around people.  To a fault, I guess.

Our Old Gal

I’m getting off topic.

Indoors or send them outside?  I feel the need at this point, mid-winter, to wean.  Which isn’t fast enough it appears, for the Cowboy.  Especially after last nights mess.  I don’t think they’re ready for it, my very small opinion as the smaller of our two labs comes in shaking from 15 minutes in the cold on days like we’ve had recently.

But girls, know it is coming.  Faster than you or I might like if we continue to have any more nights like this last ..

Not a pretty sight this morning …

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I was halfway through an entirely different post here ..

When I heard it.

You know.. the sound animals make when they’re heaving .. getting ready to throw up and just lay it all out there.

And if you have pets, you know it’s usually in the worst possible place.  For instance, they may have just gotten in the trash, devoured all your leftover pesto, garlic cloves and tomatoes to boot (no pun intended.  well, maybe it was) and they find the middle of your white plush rug to get sick.

I know better anymore than to have a white plush rug.  And yes, from experience.  Because out of an entire house of hardwoods, which I have always had, the one area rug I might have in the house, has always been the preferred site for my animals to gather and look for comfort apparently, when they are getting sick.

……………….

Back to the events of this morning.

I hear it happening .. And as I make a mad dash to get her to the hardwood floors before she actually throws up.. There it is.  The heave.

………………

My parents, as I was growing up, wanted just one pet.  We usually had one small breed dog.  And that was it.

I, on the other hand, wanted them all.  I’d bring home cats.  Ask for a horse daily.  Rabbits.  Goldfish.  A parakeet.

Our dog Bugsy growing up and the parakeet ..

Even rats.  God bless ’em.  I started with one.  One rat.

I eventually ended up, thanks to a breeding mishap in the back of our 7th grade science classroom, with 24.

“No.”  

That is what my parents said when I asked if I could bring more than the one home.

So, at the end of my 8th grade year, the rats were fed to the eagles at the MacKenzie Environmental Center.  Because no one else wanted them.  Or maybe they did, but their parents didn’t want them, either.  Traumatic for me, but apparently a wonderful treat for the eagles.

……………..

One pet.

I never understood why one was great .. but more wouldn’t be even that much better.

Until recently.

Don’t get me wrong, I love them all.  Dearly.  The two dogs I have (one that I share with a friend… I’ll explain that one later), the cat (we used to have 3) .. the horse (used to have 2) and the goldfish (which recently passed, and this reminds me, we have yet to ‘bury’ him.  Oops.) have all been wonderful companions.  I’m so grateful we have been able to give them all a home and a family and I wouldn’t trade their company for the world.

And if I made even one trip to the Humane Society or saw a stray running down the street .. chances are I’d do everything I could to save them all and make sure they found a good home.  Mine or otherwise.

My daughter is exactly the same.  In fact, she may be worse than I am in the animal lover department.

But it’s been increasingly exhausting .. the constant level of care, the upkeep, the running home everyday at some point to get the dogs out no matter what the day looks like or how tough it may be to get there .. the financial strain .. and the constant hair, cleaning, picking up after, litter, poop bags, paper towel, vet appointments, I could go on.  If you have pets you know what I mean.  It all gets to be a lot.  For anyone.  But especially for someone who is single, gone much of the time and wanting post-divorce, to rebuild financially.

I now understand why my parents said, ‘No’.  And wanted just one.

I’m exhausted.

…………..

After a funeral this morning .. I have to stop by to pick up the cat who is at the vet.

Off to the vet ...

Yesterday was cleaning up after her.

I finally realized, after trying to deal with certain issues she’s been having myself here at home, she needs more help than what I can give.  Chances are, my aging cat has issues that are medical.

I’m fully expecting a significant bill.

The fish still needs to be buried.

The ants are now gone from the kitchen.

But the trash I took outside to get rid of the ants brought raccoons.  A whole other thing to clean up this morning.

Which I discovered, taking the puke I cleaned up from the dog, out to the trash.

Feeling better ..

She’s feeling better ..

I on the other hand, if I didn’t have a day full of running around already, would be ready to go back to bed.

Insight gleaned from hydrangeas on the floor …

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My cat right now is chasing a guitar pick around the living room like it’s the best toy, ever.  Like, it’s on the run from him and he’s totally not going to let it get away.

I’m pretty sure its the first thing to bring a genuine smile to my face since about 8:00am yesterday.

Of course.. it follows him knocking over a vase freshly filled with water to get a drink.

Which makes me smile, too.

Now that I’ve cleaned up the water, anyway.  Because it’s my own damn fault he knocked it over.  I knew he was thirsty.  He had been looking for something for probably the past ten minutes.  I could hear him checking the shower for any residual drops.  I was folding clothes.  He came and looked at me.  I asked if he could give me a few minutes.

He went to the dog dish.  Nothing there.  I’m still folding clothes.  I hear the vase go.  He always goes for the flower vase when I don’t respond quick enough or there are no other options.

I pick up the hydrangeas off the floor..

I pause, before placing them back in the vase.  Go and get some more water.

And put them back on the table.

I tend to buy myself flowers when I need a pick me up.  Or, just because.

Today, I needed the pick me up.

………….

Oh the irony, I think to myself.  The cat knocks the vase over because he needs something.  Something I didn’t get him immediately.  A bit drastic?  Perhaps.  But it reminds me of my day.  When you wait too long to address a situation, it can easily get out of hand.

………….

I received a text Monday morning from the Cowboy about 25 minutes after he hit the road to head home to South Dakota.

“Please call when you drop (daughter) off, need to talk” states the text.

We had just had 48 hours of pretty much nothing but time to talk.  Time in the car.  Hours.  Together with nothing to do but talk.  We had some really fun, wonderful conversations.  So much so in fact, I pointed it out specifically after one very animated chat about shows we each used to watch when we were kids.

“My brothers and I used to not get out of the car unless we could go through the windows,” said the Cowboy.  “Dukes of Hazard.  Did you watch that one?  We loved that show.”

He shared some more ridiculously fun and fond memories about times he and his brothers did some crazy things to be like the Duke boys..

I’m laughing.

“These are really great conversations,” I honestly said to the Cowboy on our return trip Sunday from Chicago.  “Have you ever been able to talk to someone like this?” I ask.

“No,” he said smiling.  “I haven’t.”

I even took a few notes because they are conversations worth journaling.  Internally I’m thinking, how can we make sure we always continue to talk like this?  To keep learning from each other?

‘Need to talk.’

I hear this and think, oh no.. what’s happened.  There is so much going on right now.  So many moving parts in both our lives.  The Cowboy has a big day back home, Tuesday.  Monday was a prep day.  And here I was concerned it was something in regard to ‘said’ meeting.  Or the kids.  Something is horribly wrong.  Someone’s been hurt or is sick.

Nope.

‘I want to ask you about some texts I saw on your phone,’ says the Cowboy.

………….

Besides the whole host of things that might need to be discussed here ..

And mind you, I leave my phone lying around with no concerns about anything anyone might see on my phone because I have nothing to hide…

This all started Saturday morning …

It is now Monday.  And he’s left, on his way home.

…………..

I struggled with what to write, if anything at all tonight/today.  Because quite honestly, I’m still baffled about the entire situation.  But more importantly, the Cowboy has enough on his plate and the last thing I ever want to do is upset him or distract him from major life tasks that are imminent and need his focus.

I’m also wondering if stress isn’t playing a major role in any and all issues we’re having right now versus actual problems.

So I’m leaving it at this .. for now.

There are lessons, always, to be learned in our every day.  And there are stories and wisdom I wish my mother were still alive to hand down to me.  From simple things like how she made such awesome rosettes for instance .. to the complex.  Relationships.  Marriage.  Finances.  Friends.  Dreams.  Even cats.  (Yes, even cats.  I’m sure they fit in here, somewhere.)

I feel strongly the situation that has unfolded the past 24 hours specifically holds a lot of food for thought for my daughter, as she gets older and will undoubtedly face similar situations.  So I will figure out how to tactfully write about what has transpired.  Just not now.

……………

Much like the vase tipped this morning.. and the gush of water and flowers on the floor .. some things become bigger messes than they ever need to be.  Or are worth being.  Because attention wasn’t given at the right time.  Or to the right thing.  Sometimes, it can be as simple as someone/something wanting to make a mess.  But usually there’s a deeper cause.  Whatever the case .. in the wee hours of the morning as I write this:  I’m not sure how the Cowboy is.  I want nothing but good things for him and us however .. so we shall see how well we navigate this road.  But the cat .. the cat is the only thing at the moment, I feel I can appease.  And because he let me know very swiftly there was an issue..

Apparently I need to clean my floors again. I know.. I know..

There is now water in every dish.

A content cat on the sofa sleeping.

And a guitar pick that can rest.

……………

I’m off to try and do the same.

What the Cowboy Says He’s Learned in the City. No. 1 ..

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I wonder if I didn’t have to stop to pick up after the dogs … how long it would actually take me on my run each morning.

……

Many of my friends really seem to enjoy talking with the Cowboy.  The cowboys.  My ‘city’ friends too.  They are always asking him about some of the things he does, they know little to nothing about.  Things that back home for him (or even 20 miles outside Madison), are everyday things that everyone knows about and ask rarely for explanation.  Even the posts I happen to write about anything cowboy way-of-life here on the blog, seem to consistently get the most hits.

The Cowboy asked me the other day, what are you going to write about today.  I answer, “It hasn’t hit me yet.”

So he says, “You should write a blog about what I’ve learned from you.”

I laugh …

“I’m not so sure I know what you’ve learned from me,” I say at first.

Plus that isn’t as interesting, I say to myself.

He starts down the list of things he’s learned.

“How about, picking up dog poop.”

He laughs…

………..

The first few times the Cowboy visited this past fall, after I decided to stop being a vagabond (I house sat for awhile after selling my own home just over a year ago, not sure where or if I wanted to plant firm roots anywhere again, yet) and settle into my own place ..

He offered to walk my dogs while I was either a) getting ready to go wherever it was we were heading off to or b) at work.

I came home one afternoon after work and happened to see a big pile of evidence he had most likely been in the back yard of the apartment building with the dogs while I was gone.  But hadn’t quite completed all the steps of ‘taking the dogs out’.

“Is that from one of ours?” I ask.

“Probably,” he says.  “I took them out awhile ago.”

I head out to pick up after them.  And then we have ‘the talk.’

“I hate to tell you this, but you’ve got to pick up after them,” I say.  “I know that’s not a fun job, so if you want to leave that for me, I’ll get to it.  But just know, it’s got to be picked up.”

I’ve been doing it for about as long as I can remember.  Always had dogs.  Always lived where it needed to be picked up.

I used to use Oops Scoops.  But they seem harder anymore to use the cardboard piece inside .. to pick up the pile.  I find myself chasing the pieces around on the grass more than I am picking them up.

So I’ve reverted back to biodegradable small plastic baggies.  Which, used to totally gross me out, but they’re quick, convenient and they just work.

http://tlc.howstuffworks.com/home/green-pet-poop.htm

……..

“You have to pick up after your dogs,” he starts laughing.  “That’s a new one for me.  I live in the country .. never had to do that one.”

For a man used to turning ’em out, letting them run, having them do their business in a pasture or nearby grove of trees and them coming back when they are through… he’s gotten the hang of it all.  Now when I even think of asking if everything is taken care of.. he beats me to the punch.

“Yep.  All taken care of,” he usually says, smiling.

The dogs, couldn’t be happier.  I’m not so sure about the Cowboy.

I promised though, to not even consider asking for help..

With the cats.