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Yesterday was one of those days. It started badly and got progressively worse until I was freaking out on the phone asking my hubby to come home to deal with a carcass.

But I am getting ahead of myself here.

I was sick with a nasty little cold all weekend. Still feeling cruddy on Monday, and not wanting to share this virus with co-workers, I decided to stay home. Phil got up to let the dogs out. From our second floor bathroom, I heard him yelling at Stormy.

You picked the wrong yard, dude.

Stormy is our third dog. He is also our third dog to meet a skunk. My hubby hustles Stormy into the bathroom and starts with the usual peroxide/soda/soap formula to de-skunk the pooch. Stormy hates baths. I mean HATES baths. And I was useless to help because I am too congested to breathe.

Phil gets Stormy de-fumed, decided the greyhounds are not stinky, and headed off to work. Meanwhile the house reeked of skunk. We think the rodent sprayed the backside of the house worse than he sprayed the dog.

I got a tip from a friend that putting a wash cloth in a bowl of mouthwash is a great way to deodorize a room. I submerged a washcloth in a bowl of Scope, closed off the family room where the stench is strongest and hoped for the best.

An hour later, with my congested nose believing the stench had died down, I gave in to Dexter's endless whining and let all three dogs in the backyard. I watched them as they went potty and explored the yard. Then, feeling secure that all is well, I went inside for a cup of coffee.

Minutes later, I opened the door to let the dogs in. Coral and Dexter trotted in as usual. Stormy approached covered in goo. Guts. Innards. Blood.

I. Freaked. Out.

Apparently, the skunk walked back into our yard, but he wasn't walking out. Terriers kill rats, you know. And Stormy is a terrier.

I keep him on the deck and look over the rail to see what was left of a skunk in our yard. I thought it was just the head. We don't typically have the decapitated animals at our house because, well, Ozzy Osbourne doesn't live here.

Still. Freaked. Out.

I called Phil because even at my healthiest, I didn't think I could deal with this alone. And why have all the fun to myself? Yeah, I'm a sharing spouse.

I keep all three dogs in the family room, which is located in our basement, with a walk-out patio that is directly under the deck. Since that's where I placed the bowl of Scope, I grab a mouthwash-soaked cloth and started scrubbing the skunk guts off Stormy on the patio. I figured it was safe since, you know, it goes in human mouths, and it would help disinfect him.

Never in my life did I imagine I would scrub a pit bull covered in skunk guts with mouthwash. Check that one off the bucket list.

Phil came home and cleaned up the crime scene with a shovel. He said it was a whole skunk, a tiny one, and more than likely Stormy thought it was like the coolest stuffed toy ever. So he destuffed it. 

Oversharing? Yes.

He chatted with a neighbor that said she's killed four skunks so far this summer. We think nearby housing construction has infringed on the skunks' normal habitat and they are now infringing on ours. In other words, my 'hood is infested with smelly rats. Great.

Phil got everything settled at the house, crated the dogs so I could rest, and went back to work.

What did we learn from this experience?  That skunks are everywhere and we should all keep plenty of anti-stink supplies handy? That Scope can leave a minty fresh scent on a dog covered in fresh kill? That dogs should not be left unattended in the yard? Yes, we learned all those things.

And we also learned that some days, I don't like having dogs very much.