Where were we? Ahh, yes...
------So last night as we were putting kids in and out of the tub and cleaning up dinner, Leroy was barking his head off outside. This doesn't normally alarm me, because he barks at pretty much everything, except people. His list of offensive yard intruders include cows, calves, bulls, horses, deer, antelope, cats, birds, raccoons, porcupines (remember?!?) and so I went about my normal business. Reese was snuggling in her jammies, ready for bed, while Ella, pajama-less, was tearing around the house in search of her precious kitties. I took about the 50th trip up and down the stairs, looking for Horsey (he seems to be finding really good hiding spots lately) filling up sippy cups, and dumping out the contents of the diaper bag in order to find Reese's paci.
Leroy seemed to be barking right outside the door, so I opened it up and let him in. Ella asked to give him a little treat, and so I handed her a supper leftover to give to him once he sat for her. He sat, but didn't eat. Pretty out of character, but I had two girls to get into their little beds so I wasn't going to worry about his appetite for the time being.
I whisked the girls upstairs and attempted to lay Reese down. Ella came in and asked for her "Wilds" book, which was again, downstairs. Carrying Reese, I went downstairs yet again to retrive the coveted book. Leroy met me at the foot of the steps, which again, was strange because he normally follows me around the entire time he's in the house. He still hadn't eaten his treat but stood by the door and so I opened the door and let him out.
What followed happened in about 33 seconds.
I heard gruff barking, so I opened the door wider to see whose dog had made his/her way down to our house to cause trouble. Leroy barked some more, more growling, more barking, and in Leroy ran. It took me a mili-second to put the whole story together. (and a mili-second for the smell to register in my brain).
The aftermath:
-Leroy, foaming at the mouth and spitting the putrid tasting smelly skunk juices all over our kitchen floor.
-Ella, still no clothes, walking around in all the stinky mess.
-Reese, crying and crabby because she was supremely tired.
-Me, hollering for Spencer to help.
In walks the knight in shining armor, opens the door to excuse the horribly stinky dog, grabs the baby, and says, "this will be fun to clean up."
And now, a day after the skunky experience, his scent still lingers in our home. He graced all 3 of our strollers with his aroma, and also perfumed the firewood so we could enjoy his presence all winter long.
To you dear striped friend:
I usually love all animals great and small, but you, my friend, are an exception. You are no longer welcome at our house, and honestly, if I happen to see you setting up shop outside my kitchen door again, I'm grabbing the nearest gun in sight and hoping for good aim.
best wishes,
Bethany
------So last night as we were putting kids in and out of the tub and cleaning up dinner, Leroy was barking his head off outside. This doesn't normally alarm me, because he barks at pretty much everything, except people. His list of offensive yard intruders include cows, calves, bulls, horses, deer, antelope, cats, birds, raccoons, porcupines (remember?!?) and so I went about my normal business. Reese was snuggling in her jammies, ready for bed, while Ella, pajama-less, was tearing around the house in search of her precious kitties. I took about the 50th trip up and down the stairs, looking for Horsey (he seems to be finding really good hiding spots lately) filling up sippy cups, and dumping out the contents of the diaper bag in order to find Reese's paci.
Leroy seemed to be barking right outside the door, so I opened it up and let him in. Ella asked to give him a little treat, and so I handed her a supper leftover to give to him once he sat for her. He sat, but didn't eat. Pretty out of character, but I had two girls to get into their little beds so I wasn't going to worry about his appetite for the time being.
I whisked the girls upstairs and attempted to lay Reese down. Ella came in and asked for her "Wilds" book, which was again, downstairs. Carrying Reese, I went downstairs yet again to retrive the coveted book. Leroy met me at the foot of the steps, which again, was strange because he normally follows me around the entire time he's in the house. He still hadn't eaten his treat but stood by the door and so I opened the door and let him out.
What followed happened in about 33 seconds.
I heard gruff barking, so I opened the door wider to see whose dog had made his/her way down to our house to cause trouble. Leroy barked some more, more growling, more barking, and in Leroy ran. It took me a mili-second to put the whole story together. (and a mili-second for the smell to register in my brain).
The aftermath:
-Leroy, foaming at the mouth and spitting the putrid tasting smelly skunk juices all over our kitchen floor.
-Ella, still no clothes, walking around in all the stinky mess.
-Reese, crying and crabby because she was supremely tired.
-Me, hollering for Spencer to help.
In walks the knight in shining armor, opens the door to excuse the horribly stinky dog, grabs the baby, and says, "this will be fun to clean up."
And now, a day after the skunky experience, his scent still lingers in our home. He graced all 3 of our strollers with his aroma, and also perfumed the firewood so we could enjoy his presence all winter long.
To you dear striped friend:
I usually love all animals great and small, but you, my friend, are an exception. You are no longer welcome at our house, and honestly, if I happen to see you setting up shop outside my kitchen door again, I'm grabbing the nearest gun in sight and hoping for good aim.
best wishes,
Bethany
I love the gun comment. You are becoming a real Ranch women! Great story Bethers.
ReplyDeleteWow. I followed that story start to finish . . . and I wish that poor poor skunky the best of luck with a mad Mama Beth around!!!
ReplyDelete