Funk Got Skunked!

This post is a sort of an addendum to the Hanson post because, unfortunately for us, Garfunkel tangled with the black-and-white demon on the same night. Actually, I blame Hanson; Funk got skunked literally only 5 minutes before Robert walked in my parents' door to pick him up. Had Hanson had only ONE opening act and not TWO, Robert and I would have been home in time to grab him before the skunk ever appeared. Just sayin'.

But, as luck would have it, Hanson did have two opening acts and Garfunkel was able to get himself good and sprayed right before Robert arrived. Why wasn't I with him, you ask? Well, it was about 12:30 or so by the time we made it back from the city and we were in separate cars so I headed home to get a jump on the showering, tooth brushing, lunch making, etc. I was in the midst of doing just that when Robert came running into the house reeking of skunk and telling me that Funk had been sprayed. I immediately hopped on the Web to look up stink remedies and Robert changed into something grubby before heading out to the store to procure all the goodies. Fast-forward to 3 AM and Garfunkel had been bathed, scrubbed, soaked and rubbed too many times to count with a hydrogen peroxide/baking soda/soap concoction as well as his regular dog shampoo. Robert did the bulk of the washing; I came in at the end to do a final inspection and some touch-ups. After finally deciding we'd done the best we could, we headed home and stumbled into bed at 4:30. Robert went to work at his usual time, poor guy; I didn't have to be on campus until 11 so I got a couple more hours sleep. It was just so nice that Garfunkel decided to christen himself in skunk funk on the one night we were out late... and not on, y'know, one of those pesky nights in the 4 months prior when only one of us had to wake up early. Excellent timing.

The BEST part of the whole thing is that Funk got sprayed right in the face. Yay. In fact, according to my Robert, Funk actually had a white, foamy goatee of skunk stink. His muzzle and chest smelled so strongly that I think it singed our nose hairs, I'm not joking. It was awful!!! And even though my parents heard the rustling and so never let Funk in their house after he was sprayed, the incident occurred so close to their house that the entire thing just stunk. It was bad. Luckily, Quigley did his business and then ran back into my parents' house so he avoided being hit. Garfunkel, on the other hand, decided that messing around with a big, fluffy, stinky black-and-white 'cat' would be a lot of fun. I really, really, really hope Garfunkel is smart enough to realize that those kinds of 'kitties' are no fun at all and that he stays away from them in the future!!! (Just as an aside, my childhood dog, Ziggy, lived his entire life outside in our backyard and NEVER got sprayed by a skunk. Ever. He chased raccoons from time to time but never got bitten, scratched or sprayed by any of the various wildlife trolling around the BART tracks behind my parents' yard. He was either incredibly lucky, incredibly intelligent or a little bit of both.)

It is now about three weeks post-skunk'd Funk and while my parents will dispute me on this, both Robert and I think - nay, we KNOW - he still carries some residual funk. (His breath was the WORST for the first few days after he got sprayed but thankfully that died down more quickly than the fur stink did.) I did a bit more research on the topic the day following the incident and Robert wound up buying some Tecnu and giving Funk another rubdown and bath that night. That actually seemed to help a lot. I managed to salvage Robert's clothes and all but one of the towels used to wash Funk down after several soakings and washings in the hydrogen peroxide mix. Garfunkel's collar took the brunt of the hit, I think, and was subsequently the hardest item to de-skunk. I soaked it. I washed it. I rubbed it down with Tecnu. I soaked it again. I washed it some more. I scrubbed it with even more Tecnu. Finally, I decided to rub some Goo Gone on it and that seemed to do the trick. Something about the orange oil... I don't know and I don't care. I'm just glad Funk doesn't have to wear his birthday collar with the Christmas ornament tag anymore! He got his hot dog collar back just a couple days ago. :o)

Let me just reiterate that I really, really, really hope Garfunkel has learned NEVER to do this again. Ever.