Skunked

I got home last night to find my beloved dog Petey in a battle to the death with a skunk. The skunk had to be pretty young to get through our fence, and when I came across him Petey had him trapped under the grill, and was barking to wake up hell. At first I tried to shoo him away from the skunk with a broom. Yeah, right. Finally I went inside and got a towl. I threw that over Petey and was able to get him away from the skunk, but not before both of us had been mortally skunked.

Tomato juice is just a waste of a good V8. Petey and I still smell like Peppy La Pew.

The thought did cross my mind to just take Petey to my ex-wife's house, and leave him there. She originally got Petey for son Chieftoe (Quent), and then abandoned the dog at my house after his first hour home. While it would have been really funny, and certainly just, I would miss the beast too much. So I'm off to PetSmart for the 21st century cure for skunkification.

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