A RAPID BEGINNING TO A SUNDAY MORNING
Early this morning – around 5 – Dale gets up to go to his part time retirement job at the local golf course.
Seconds later she comes torpedoing back through the curtain like the hounds of hell were on her heels. With this dramatic entrance she brings with her the stench of skunk and the doggie door curtain. Dale is racing around trying to catch her. Anyone that knows Dale knows that his only speed is “very slow and relaxed”. When he speeds up it means something drastic has blasted him out of his usual aplomb. Hearing Dale moving frantically about the house, hollering for
A few seconds later I hear her panicking, screaming and scrabbling, at the door and head out to give her a piece of my mind. Before I could open my mouth, I am face to face with little Mr. Stinky. I am not quite sure who was more surprised –
I think things are finally getting better and my son and Grandson walk in. The immediate look of horror on their faces and the grabs for the nose tell me that “no” the smell is still there, I have just become accustomed to it. The two of them do an about face and march straight back out the door, out the gate to the truck and drive away. Halfway home they call me. The hoodie that Caleb had left here the day before and which I had tossed to them on their march to the truck had assumed the vile odour and my son was driving home with it hanging out the window.
So currently, 5 hours later,
I cannot be sure that Mr. Stinky has vacated the yard. It is very securely fenced with only one place where he can get in or out. I left the gate open till daylight hoping to give him another means of escape. My yard is a cottage garden full of shrubs, masses of perennials, deep glades of towering trees and tall decorative grasses everywhere. He has a million hiding places if he hasn’t left the yard.
Now if I could just find a pleasant smelling spot to have a snooze I’d be all set.