It was the child.
We know this now. At least, I know this now.
The child #2 was to blame.
She was helping.
We were camping and had been raided by evil denizens of the dark, furry masked marauders.
Raccoons.
Every night. they had decimated our food supply and even scattered empty beer cans all over the campsite in their silent semi-drunken debauch.
So #2 took matters into her own hands.
She made a trap.
A coon trap.
None of us saw what she had constructed. From what I have ascertained after long hours of interrogating it was made of a white plastic grocery sack, pieces of chicken, cheese, chicken in a biscuit and two used paper plates. A stick and some string attached with my amazing flame duct tape (SERIOUSLY HOW COOL IS THAT! FLAMED DUCT TAPE!) completed and triggered the mechanism.
We were in the girls tent.
Laying about on cots, making our nighttime noises before sleep.
Mine and wife's tent a few feet away.
Suddenly, a noise outside. A growling thrashing sound.
Some weird squeaking.
Ever alert (right) Mr. Dog jumped up and bolted outside to see what the disturbance was.
#2 Sat upright in her layers of sleepy bags and laughed, like a small deranged tyrant. In the midst of her laugh she said, "It worked! IT ACTUALLY WORKED!"
We sat confused.
The thrashing got louder and the MIL and I ventured from the tent to see what was amiss.
That was when the dog, went from growling to gagging. Really gagging.
Then the little dumb ass furryhead ran back into the tent. And puked. (my favorite part) Right on the MILs sleepy bags.
This is a glimpse of what the MIL saw.
I ran into the tent.
The numbers screaming.
Because now Dog was foaming.
and still retching.
So I collared him.
and dragged him outside.
and he coughed and sneezed and gagged the foam right into my face.
and I joined him in retching.
If you have ever had this experience. I am sorry.
Truly I am.
Smelling a skunk that you pass on the freeway is pleasant.
Compared to this.
bratwurst, covered in sauerkraut, laced with mustard and raw onions, then put into a covered container and baked under a sunlamp for three days.
Doesn't even touch the acrid, chemical, vile, choking effluvium that a skunk sprays.
Dog was Gagging, I was Gagging, the numbers the wife and the MIL were all choking and gasping.
It was awful.
So I dragged Dog over to the communal hose and started to spray him.
The smell got worse.
Other campers started to come out of their tents, and duck back in.
Instant pariahs.
Wife came over carrying all of the cleaning stuff we had.
I dosed the Dog with all of it.
Rinsed him off.
Now he smelled like skunk ass, that had been wiped with a dirty rag.
We argued, what to do?
We discussed myths and legends and facts and killing the dog.........
amazingly, when we agreed on tomato juice as the best alternative.
we were stuck. I mean, Who the hell has tomato juice camping? At o dark o clock?
Insomniac Italians?
The MIL (Mother in law) gets this weird look. I imagine the oracle at Delphi had a similar look when she spoke.
"I don't know what came over me, I just had this feeling, when i was shopping for this trip, I saw it, I hate it, I never drink it, but. I . Bought . A . Whole case............."
At this point I should interject that I had no patience left for the oracular voice.
so i swore, and asked her to please say whatever it was she had bought that she thought might help.
"IBOUGHTAWHOLECASEOFV8TJUICETHESPICYKIND!
Praise to the bargain shopping gods!
So the case was fetched. And dog was covered in three bottles of spicy V8. I even made him drink a bunch, and snort it and for holy hells sake I covered him in it.
It worked.
It actually killed the smell.
Mostly.
Then I smelled me. I smelled wife.
and I gagged all over again.
We got a bottle each.
i washed my whole self with spicy V8.
i almost wish someone would have taken a picture.
I looked just like
this
I will never be able to drink spicy V8 again.
