So this morning I open the door to let the dogs out and the odor of skunk wafts gently into my nostrils. “Yuck,” thinks I, “there’s a skunk out there somewhere.”
Chance (AKA the coward) steps out the door before he realized what else was sharing nature with him, and stands there, staring at me over his shoulder with this pathetic look on his face, as if to say “You are abandoning me to the stinky one?”
Chance, who is coming up on four, has been hit by skunk twice and a near miss once. He also lost to a porcupine, but that is another story.
Meanwhile, Gypsy, who at almost one, doesn’t know skunk from cat, is happily checking out whatever is under the deck.
“Crap,” thinks I, “this is not good first thing in the morning.” So call them back in. Chance is happy-happy to get away from that evil nature. Gypsy just wants food.
After they ate I walked them outside to do their interrupted business. Now Chance is happy-happy that I am out there to protect him or to take one for him. Gypsy just wants to pee.
Hopefully, the stinky one will be gone when next they venture into the wild.