At about three this morning, I heard my wife utter the three words no husband is happy to hear, “What’s that smell?”
Immediately I recognized it: skunk. My short-term memory activated and recalled that a few seconds earlier, Max the Chihuahua had hopped into bed with us. A bit more vague was what happened a few minutes earlier, but I could recall barking, and the sound of the dog door.
Apparently Max had gone out to do his business, and returned coated with a very well-placed shot of (E)-2-butene-1-thiol, 3-methyl-1-butanethiol, and 2-quinolinemethanethiol on his butt. It was the strongest either Abby or I had smelled it, almost to the point of not recognizing it. Wow. I picked him up to discover it was on him not just as a gently spray, but as a wet spot on his hindquarter.
I took him to the bathroom and gave him two hot, soapy showers, and that got him mostly de-stinked. When Abby and I got up this morning, the bed reeked, so I stripped the sheets and threw them in the washer and set it to “terminate with extreme prejudice.”
Ugh. I’ve heard smoke from wet leaves does wonders.