Skunk Attack

Last week Casey went outside to do her nightly business, when the house started smelling a little bit skunky. Living in the country, that isn't too unusual. However, when Scott brought Casey inside, she smelled very odd, like chemicals or gasoline. He walked her into the bedroom to see what I thought the smell was. I believe I said something like "That's not just skunk, that's up close and personal skunk. GET HER OUT OF THE HOUSE!!!"



Thankfully, Scott had her by the collar so our carpet and furniture were safe. However, the house itself smelled. Really smelled.

Casey was put outside for the night. Unfortunately, we had a thunderstorm that night and Casey believes thunder and lightening are the worst thing (next to skunks) on the planet. I awoke to her trying to dig her way into the house through the back door. Of course, having an infant in the house means I'm sleeping very little anyway, so I was not happy to hear her desperate attempts at entering the house when I had only been asleep for thirty minutes. I spent a few minutes wrestling Casey to keep her OUT of the house, grabbed her and part her inside her kennel. All of this was taking place in a thunderstorm with 25 mph winds.

Now, we hadn't used the kennel since we moved her out to our house last fall, so it had become a place to put stuff. After shoving the 55lbs dog into the kennel, I assumed I would easily be able to close the kennel and that would be it. Alas, the 80lbs bag of concrete, a box of assorted goods, and something else that was not identifiable all needed to be moved to allow the kennel to resume its normal shape. I'm doing this all the while keeping the door pushed to so Casey cannot escape. I so did not want to start the process over.

Alas, after what seemed like, forever, Casey was in her kennel, covered up, and then I was able to go back to bed. Did I sleep? No. Casey doesn't like her kennel and proceeded to bark for and hour or so. When she realized she was not being allowed out of her kennel and quieted, Daniel awoke deciding it was time to eat. . .