Decision time.
Do I take my dog out front in my pjs and pink fuzzy slippers to bless “his” fire hydrant or let him roam free in the backyard?
We’ve been a little overprotective of Milo ever since he broke his foot this summer while chasing an intruder. Especially since his tendency is to take off like a bat outta hell if he sees a squirrel or bunny. Yet, his foot had healed nicely and it was early, cold, and damp.
I kept an eye on him as he patrolled and watered the garden beds.
When he disappeared into the overgrown woods, I went to make my smoothie. Trusting he’d bark when it was time to get his portion. Mid-smoothie, I was prompted to look outside as I witnessed him leaping over the greenery and streaking toward the side yard. It was such a full out run that I went out on the deck to investigate.
My mind scrambled and I couldn’t understand why two black and white creatures were nose to nose in my yard.
Within seconds I was screaming “Milo, No!”while watching two snarling creatures locked in a battle. In hindsight, I realize my stress response had diminished my frontal lobe functioning. I was terrified that Milo was going to be bitten in the face by this creature.
Seems I forgot all about a skunk’s secret weapon.
I saw the moment Milo got sprayed in the face and his valiant effort to go in for one more snarl. I’m sure the burning was too much for him as he ran in a panic, rubbing his face in the grass. My extensive vocabulary changed to “Milo, Come!” as I ran along with him.
As he streaked by me on the deck, I saw his look of panic in his blood red eyes.
He’s quick and efficient. I’ll grant him that. In his frenzied state, Milo blessed the carpets in 3 rooms with that skunk’s parting gift before I caught him. Knowing I had to wash out his eyes, I leashed him and dragged the poor beast to grab towels and upstairs to the bathroom. Not even letting him pause for another wipe of his face.
As I ran the water, my entire focus was on protecting his eyes.
We were in sync as he brought his face under the warm water, flushing out his eyes. Quickly laying towels over the bathroom rug, I sought the dog shampoo. Only to find we had none. I grabbed my liquid soap made of plants which was good for sensitive skin. Not so great for de-skunking, but okay if soap got in his eyes.
Keeping up a constant stream of soothing language while lathering Milo allowed me to calm us both down a bit.
As my system reorganized and my higher order thinking came back on line, I realized a few things. He stunk. I stunk. My house stunk. And his eyes were clearing up rapidly. Once he had his roll about on the towels (and my bathroom rug) he was fluffy and a bit less stinky.
Leashed, I took him to the kitchen while I called the vet. “Watch his eyes.”
I looked up how to get out skunk smell from a dog, my rugs, and my house. Just too complicated for me in that moment to do by myself. When I saw he was still shaking, I sat down and did a Body Code session to clear the trauma. No surprise that first up was the physical-emotional shock, unbalanced adrenals, and other relevant reactions. I treated myself as well while we moved through the protocol to help my system rebalance.
It worked well for both of us.
