June 26, 2012
To paraphrase Lloyd Bridges, "Looks like I pick the wrong day to shower before walking the dogs."
Teddy, whom might more accurately answer to Ted-roll, discovered a renegade pony out on Charlotte Lane this morning. Or perhaps I should re-phrase: she discovered evidence of a renegade pony. And took it as her obligation to roll vigorously in the evidence. Don't you just love the smell of pony poop in the morning? Nothing like it.
Nothing like it, that is, unless you can find skunk.
Which is what Willie did about fifteen minutes after the pony poop incident.
And where was my stashed supply of tomato juice that I keep for just such emergencies? Sadly depleted.
So, I had to use tomato paste, of which I had copious amounts.
The tomato paste actually worked pretty well. A lot like Prell. A little goes a long way. Of course, I didn't know that right away and plopped a big old tablespoon of tomato paste right on the top of his head and lathered it in. I eventually covered him with about a half a can, which made him look like he had tried the mud bath at the "Red Clay of Georgia Spa." Gradually, it started to cover up (absorb?) his manly, skunk odor.
I added some water from the hose to scrub the paste in and spread it around. That's when he gave a mighty dog shake and then another and then another. The carport and deck looked like a terrible crime scene. I knew that NCIS's Abby Sciuto would need all her forensic skills to de-code the splatter pattern and explain what happened.
Oh well. I just followed the directions on the can (you know, "Wet. Lather. Rinse. Shake. Repeat."). Now Willie is waiting in shame on the back porch, hoping to come back inside before the temps reach triple digits (and secretly hoping he can retain at least some of the cool smell he acquired this morning).
I'm headed upstairs for my second shower of the morning.