Saving Private Skunk

When I was a wee pup my big sister Blake used to take me on adventures.  I'm sure being an inexperienced pup I got us into some troubling situations.  But I don't think I have ever got into more trouble then after Pocket became my sister.  I joined DS just after Pocket became part of our family. Many of you who have read my blogs there, and followed me to Blogger,  then the Tanner Brigade, and have read about all of our adventures.  But I don't think I have ever undertaken such a fool hardy endeavour as when Pocket decided we had to save that miserable skunk.

It started one cold night after the first snow.  Pocket likes to go with Daddy when he takes out the trash.  I don't know why.  Young pups like trash.  She usually walks with Daddy.  But with the snow, salt, and ice,  Daddy carries her in one arm and the trash in the other.  It was very dark and the only light came from the few working lamp posts.  Daddy heard it before he saw it, the scratching against the snow.  Then he saw it, between the snow bank and the dumpster, a big black and white skunk.  Pocket began to bark.

Daddy knows skunks.  He's never been skunked by a skunk but he knows them.  If you show them some backbone they scurry away.  But not this skunk.  It looked at them and  hissed.  Then it went back to scratching.  Daddy took another step forward but the skunk would not budge.  It just kept scratching.  Daddy moved to the right of the dumpster, trying to figure if he could throw the bag inside, but given the angle, and having his balance thrown off by five pounds of Yorkie on his opposite side, he did what Daddy has seldom had the sense to do, he retreated, bringing the trash back into the house.

He brought the trash out the next morning.  No sign of the skunk.  Daddy took Pocket out with him when he did trash that night. Still no sign of the skunk.  But Pocket told me she could sniff it.  That skunk was living in the snowbank right next to the dumpster.

Two nights later we had another buzzard.  The loud beasts came and they pushed all the snow off the road.  That night Daddy carried Pocket towards the dumpster (he took the trash too, Pocket's seepage hasn't pushed them that far.)  Pocket was sitting up sniffing.  Daddy knew she was sniffing for the skunk.  He thought she was sniffing to protect him.  But she was sniffing to see if the skunk was safe.

She could barely smell it..  When Daddy was tossed the bag in the dumpster Pocket barked out a "hello, are you there?"

"Hiss, yes, hiss, I am trapped, hiss, trapped in the snowbank, hiss, have your human shovel me out," the skunk said.

Pocket knew Daddy had a big heart, but he wasn't going to dig a skunk out of a snowbank. 

They came back inside.  Pocket climbed up on the couch next to me.  "You know that skunk I was telling you about?" she asked.  I nodded as I licked my paws.  "It's stuck in the snow bank by the dumpster."

"That's too bad," I said.  "But it's a wild animal, it should have known better then to live in a snow bank.  It's only a temporary home."

"It can't get out, it can't eat, it's cold, it's going to starve to death then it's going to freeze to death," Pocket pleaded.

"Pocket it's a skunk, it's like the scorpion and the frog.  You can't help a skunk," I said.

"What about the scorpion and the frog?" she asked.

I sighed.  "The scorpion asks the frog to give it a ride across the river.   The frog doesn't want to because it's afraid the scorpion will sting it and kill it.  The scorpion promises it won't.  It gets a ride across the river.  Once there on the other side, scorpion stings it and kills it."  I continued to lick my feet.

"What a terrible story," Pocket said.  "Why did you tell me that?"

I looked at her. "It means that things are what they are.  A scorpion stings, that's what it does.  A skunk sprays other animals.  A leopard can't change it's spots."

"A leopard?  A scorpion?  A frog?  There's just a skunk the the snow bank Foley.  It isn't Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom in there!"

I looked up again.  "Nice 70's reference Pocket, where are you learning this stuff?"

"I've been going on line at night and reading Pupapedia since Mommy blocked the kitty porn sites."

"Pocket," I said, my annoyance growing, "If we try to save the skunk we are going to end up smelling like skunk stank and Mommy is going to be mad at us.  This discussion is over.  We are not ging to try and save the skunk."  The next night, after Mommy and Daddy went to bed, we went out to try and save the skunk.

Mommy and Daddy were deep in their snores.  We hopped out of bed,.  Pocket nosed under the couch and pulled out a rope and a rock hammer.  She rolled on the rope until it was around her then picked up the hammer in her mouth.  "Why do you have a rock and hammer?" I asked.

"In case we have to summit," she said after dropping the hammer.  I shook my head.  We slipped out through the Teddy Bond Invisible Doggy Door.  It was the dead of night.  So cold even the bats were in the belfry.  We got to the big snow pile by the dumpster. 

I knocked on this exit less Igloo but there was no answer.  "This doesn't look good," I said to Pocket. 

"Foley it's a pile of snow not an ice sculpture," she said.

"I meant it doesn't look good for your skunk friend, he's been in there for days."

Pocket began barking:  "Hello?  Mr Skunk!  Are you in there?"

"Hiss, yes, hiss, I am here hiss.  Help me Ms. Pocket.  I am very cold and hungry, hiss," a weak voice said from inside the snow bank.

"She's alive Foley, she's alive," Pocket said excitedly   "Unless he's a he.  Do you think his Mommy got it neutered?"

"Skunks don't get neutered," I said.

"Does Bob Barker know about this?" she asked.

I gave Pocket my look of great annoyance.  "You gonna womit?" Pocket wondered.

As usual, she was no help.  "Look Mr Skunk, is there anyway you can scratch your way out?"

"Hiss, no, hiss, I have been trying, hiss, now too deep."

I turned to talk to Pocket but she wasn't there.  She had used to rope and hammer and now was standing on top of the snow bank.  "Look at me!" she said.  "I am Pocket.  Pocket of the Mountain."

"Well Pocket," I said, looking up at her, "I knew you were not going to able to resist climbing up there, so I took some silent fireworks and put them in the trash.   Now all you have to do is jump from the snow pile into the dumpster, find our trash, pull the fireworks and matches out of the bag, and we'll blow this snow pile up."

"Excuse me," the Skunk said, "But I would rather not be blown up, I have plans to go to the coast this summer."

"We're not going to blow you, probably," I said.  "It will just blow apart the snow bank so you can escape, more than likely.  By the way, in case of accident, is there anyone we should notify?"

"You don't have to worry, Mr Skunk because I am not jumping into the dumpster," Pocket said tremblling.

"This was your idea Pocket, you said you would do anything, so here you are, prove it.  You want to save the skunk you need to go dumpster diving."

Pocket kept trembling.  But she knew she had committed herself to this adventure, so she shook her heiny, and then jumped just as pretty as anything you ever saw, into the dumpster.  I became concerned when I didn't hear from her for almost a minute.  I called out her name.  "Somebody threw out pizza!" she answered.

"Pocket," I scolded, we are lap dogs, we do not eat out of the dumpster.

"It's OK I brought a fork," she said.  "Oh look, someone threw out a Lance Bass poster, how do you think it would look in my crate?"

"Pocket, the skunk!" I reminded her.

"Hiss, that is good pizza, hiss, I used to eat it before I got trapped," the skunk said.

"I'll make sure they know it's the pizza preferred by skunks," I said.  "Find our trash and get the fireworks and matches!" I yelled to Pocket.

"How am I to know it's our trash?" she asked.

"It will probably smell like paper towels used to soak up your pee," I said. 

"Found it!" she said.  She then jumped down with the silent fireworks and the matches in her mouth.  We then stuck the fireworks around the snow pile.  I then told her to hold the match in her mouth while I struck it against the book cover.  "Why don't you hold it in your mouth, I always get my whiskers burned," she said. I reminded her this was her mission.  She sighed, and I struck the match against the book.  It caught on fire.  Pocket dropped it and said "ow, ow, oww," and then we realized the fireworks were lit and we both ran and hid behind the dumpster. 

The fireworks went off lighting up cold mid-winter sky.  There were group of animals watching from the edge of the woods.  "Look at that, it's beautiful," a chipmunk said.

"Must be the fourth of July," a coyote said.  "And it's cold and snowing.  That's the last time I rent an Al Gore video."

While the fireworks were a thrilling site they did not blow up the snow bank.  A worried Pocket called out for skunk.  "Hiss, it melted the snow a little, hiss, bit I still can't get out," it reported.

"Maybe we can dig it out," Pocket said.  We both began to scratch against the snow.

"Darn," I said looking at my paw.

"What happened?" Pocket asked

"Oh I broke a nail," I said.  "And I just got them done."   I pulled out my Droid phone from under my tail.  "I know a fabulous Japanese Chin who can do wonders with nails, let me give her a call."

"But what about digging out the skunk?" Pocke asked.

"Oh I can't," I said.  "I don't have the kibble to get more than one nail done."

"What more important to you Foley the life of this skunk or your nails?"

"Hey, I spent a lot of kibble on these nails," I said.  "Oh wait, I got the Chin's machine.  Nice message."  I asked her to call me.

Pocket was depressed, and she did what she always did when she was depressed, or excited, or bored.  She peed.  I watched as the snow melted under her.

"That's it Pocket.  When you pee you melt the snow.  You are going to pee the skunk out of the snowbank!" I said.

"Hiss, that sounds kinds of disgusting hiss," the skunk said and I responded "look whose talking."

"It would take lots of pee to melt that snowbank," Pocket said.  I told her that meant we needed lots of water, and with everything frozen that would take some thinking.

"I know where there is an endless supply of water," I said.

"Where?" Pocket asked excited.

"At home in the toilet bowl!" I said.


"I'm not drinking out of the toilet bowl!"

"You'll eat my poo but you won't drink out of the toilet bowl?" I asked.

"Oh please nice Puppy can't you go home and get some water and help me hiss?" the skunk hissed.

Pocket sighed again.  "Can't you spray your spray and melt the snow?" she asked.

"Oh no hiss, it would smell to much hiss."

"Really, I thought they would be like your farts, your own never smell bad," Pocket said.

"Oh I don't mind my farts," the skunk said.

"Well this is all fascinating," Pocket replied.

"Yes it is," I said, not meaning it.  "But we need to get back home, you need to get toilet bowl drinking, and I need some supplies, so let's go."

"Hiss, hiss, are you sure you are coming back for me?" the skunk asked. 

"I promise Mr. Skunk.  I give you my word as a Terrier from Yorkshire," Pocket said before I gave her a nip to get her moving.

We got back into the house.  Pocket was taken to the toilet bowl but was reluctant until I told her about the freezing skunk.  She held her nose while licking, which is quite the feat when you are balancing yourself on a toilet seat.  Pocket told me she couldn't drink anymore but I knew she would need more to pee the skunk out.  To get her to drink more at first we played toilet bowl pong and then quarters.  Pocket was quiet blotted and barely fit back through the doggy door.,  When we hit the cold Pocket was afraid she was going to start leaking and I had to drag her by her harness to the snow pile.  I told the skunk that Pocket was ready to pee.  I suggested the skunk peed if she had them.  I had drank a big bowl of water too and I contributed.

But it was Pocket, peeing and peeing on the snow who created a big enough hole that we could see the skunks paw.  Then Pocket and I each bit a paw and dragged the skunk out of the snowbank.

We got it out of the hole.  We all hugged one another and then joined hands and did the dance of joy.  Then the skunk stepped back.  "And now, as a citizen of France, I shall say to you Ni and spray stink in your general direction in the name of Napoleon."

"But we just saved you!" Pocket said.

"Yes, but it is like the story of the scorpion and the frog hiss," the skunk said raising it's tail.

"The scorpion and the frog are in there.  I am going to have to drink more toilet water," Pocket said as the tail rose.  I grabbed Pocket and we ran back to the house.

"Ni, let loose my spray!" the skunk said.

We were about to get skunked  Then we saw Daddy, walking towards us.  "What are you two doing out here this late at night....SKUNK."

The skunk sprayed just as we skidded behind Daddy and he got skunked.  The skunk hopped up on the bank and ran into the woods.  Daddy stood there smelling really bad.  Then he yelled at us to get back in the house.  We got upstairs and the smell made Mommy wake up.

"What have you done you smell like skunk?" she asked.

Daddy began to tell her about us being outside with the skunk.  "Oh that is ridiculous, blaming this on the dogs.  You always blame these two babies."  We jumped up on the bed and snuggled with her. "You tried freeing that skunk you told me about, I told you that you'd get spray," Mommy said angrily.  "Go sleep in the tub and we will figure this out in the morning,"  Poor Daddy turned and walked into the bathroom to sleep.

We snuggled close to Mommy.  "Well that worked out well,:" I said to Pocket.

"Yes, but tomorrow night we need to free the scorpion," Pocket said.  I just pretended to be asleep.  Sisters. 

But neither of us slept well that night.  We have good sniffers and boy did Daddy smell.  All in all I think it was very inconsiderate of him.  But he got his reward.  A naked tomato soup bath.  Serves him right for getting involved in animals, business.