Brendan Quealy at the Traverse City Record-Eagle in Traverse City on Tuesday.
Midnight is about to strike and I have a question running through my head.
Why the hell do skunks exist? What’s their point ? How are they beneficial for life on Earth? Who thought creating them was a good idea? Where does this smell come from in the folds of Lucifer’s sphincter? And – most importantly – when will it come out of my dogs?
Alright, so I have several questions swirling around in my currently withering brain under this ripe smelly cloud of sulfur-cooked rotten eggs flavored with broken dreams and broken hearts.
Am I a bit dramatic?
No. No I’m not.
If you smelled what I’m smelling right now — and if you smelled it on your two dogs who you just gave two very soapy baths — you wouldn’t think I’m overreacting either.
Now I’m sure there’s a skunk appreciation society whose members are going to get in shape about this next statement, but I’m going to say it anyway and risk the emails and comments on the how skunks are such warm, cute creatures when in reality, they’re nothing more than fancy squirrels that aren’t necessary to the fabric of existence.
Again this message is brought to you by the guy whose two dogs smell like they just came back from the bowels of the damned and brought with them all the spoiled leftovers sitting in the back of Beelzebub’s basement fridge . And because midnight has now passed and the stores where I would buy the equipment needed to rid my home of that stench are closed, I am left here with nothing to do but sit and wait and write.
If I seem a little more annoyed by this than necessary, allow me to provide some additional context.
Prior to the assault on my dogs and my senses, I had spent the previous two days being assaulted with food poisoning. Oh yes, it was just a stellar start to the week for yours truly.
I’ll obviously spare you the gory and gruesome details of my stomach ailment, but suffice it to say that the northern and southern regions were either Defcon 5 or Defcon 1…whichever is more severe. Anyway, my body was in no condition to stand the stench of the skunk. Neither did my mental health.
At one point, all I wanted to know was what I had done to deserve this. What wrongs had I committed? What divine rules had I violated to usher in this fetid fire and brimstone on top of the violent bodily eruptions I had just endured?
But the only acceptable answer is that it just comes with the territory. Sometimes these things happen when you live on a rock floating in the cosmos, don’t they?
Some weeks are filled with vomit, diarrhea and skunks.
Others are filled with health and wellness and sweet-smelling dogs.
Spending a week with one certainly makes you appreciate the weeks you have with others.
So I’m going to sit here the rest of the night with two freshly washed dogs next to me, with every candle I own burning bright, with this nasty, horrible smell still swirling around my nose and knowing that this too will pass .
At least that’s what I tell myself through the tears in my burning eyes.