Stink, Stank, Stunk

I recently returned from the scene of the "armadillo incident." Apparently, I was not a very animal friendly person in a past life and I am now being punished for all the prior sins of my former self.

The weather here has turned cool and breezy, giving the girls an extra dose of, in my opinion, unnecessary energy. Since they were being fussy, I packed them up in the car and we headed out to play. For some reason, lately, every time we go to this particular location, Lulu becomes quite disobedient, not listening, running off, and generally being a pain in the behind. Nearing the end of our walk, I could tell that she was considering taking off, so I leashed her and headed back to the car.

I hadn't really given much thought to Bella, as she usually sticks pretty close. I called her and she was pretty far back, obviously enamored with something sure to be gross. I told her to "leave it," which she usually obeys but not so much today. So I, being too lazy to go all the way back and get her, proceed to watch her somersault into God Knows What on the ground and rub around in it. Now Bella isn't really known to roll in disgusting things so I am thinking this must be super special for her to partake in. Finally, after about 10 minutes, she comes trotting up, happy as a clam.

Well, I am not so happy. I am already annoyed and then get the joy of smelling her coming about 15 feet before she gets back to us. I look her over and notice that she is covered in what I can only describe as smelly, smelly goo. I still, two hours later, can not figure out what this goo actually is and, in order to not have to make myself gag more than I already have today, have decided not to delve any deeper into this mystery.

I have these wipes in my car and spent a good ten minutes wiping her down. I thought I had done a decent job until I closed the door to my car and dared to breathe. The stench, which I will spare you from describing, was unbearable. I swear if we were a little closer to home, I would have made her trot along side the car. Of course, to keep "Bella pace" I would have had to drive about -2 mph.

Once we arrived home, I tried to scurry her into the bathroom, bribing her with her favorite treats, the equivalent of dog crack. She ran into the bathroom, grabbed the treat from me, and hauled ass back down the hall and into her fort. Bella's "fort" is underneath the dining room table. That is her safe place and where she goes when she is feeling scared, vulnerable, or just plain doesn't want to do something.

Getting Bella out of her fort is almost impossible. There are a few tricks that sometimes work and I tried all such tricks to no avail. I have given up for now, which may sound lame but, believe me, is just a matter of being realistic. She may have won this battle but just wait until Scott comes home and BAM, we win the war. You will be bathed you stinky stinky dog. Until then, I will just concentrate on breathing through my mouth.