The poor guy just didn't understand. We ended up in the yard until 1am, alternating rubbing his face with spaghetti sauce and shampoo. It was an enhanced interrogation as we held him down and sprayed a hose in his face to rinse off the skunk oil. We waterboarded our sweet, naive, stinky dog as he sat shivering, wet and cold in the yard in the middle of the night.
Today my hand smells a enough like a skunk that everyone asks about it. I tell them and everyone has a story.
I don't have a story! Aww, poor bear.
Post a Comment