Stank You Smelly Much

So when we moved into this house, we knew there were some things we would want to change. The previous owners did a fine job taking care of the place, but it definitely needs a bit of that home improvement action that's so politely referred to as updating. You know, like:

"Oh, it's in great shape, it just needs a bit of updating."

"The house is from 1908, but it's been completely updated."

"Ripping out that green shag carpeting will go a long way towards updating this place."

Yay for HGTV. One of the updating projects we knew we were going to do at some point was the floors. Most of the house has rather dingy carpet that's long since done its duty and needs to be retired. So we added floors to the list, content that we would return to it soon enough.

Which brings us to last Friday night. We had just finished season 1 of "The Wire", and were on our way to bed, pausing only long enough to let the dog out to relieve himself. At one point, I looked outside to see him squirming around in the grass, and smiled at the sight of it.

"Silly dog."

Oh, if only I'd known. A few minutes later, I opened the door to let him in, and was immediately assaulted by the smell of burning tires. Elliott ran inside and proceeded to do his squirming routine all over the carpet. I went upstairs where Ashley was brushing her teeth.

"Do you smell that?"

I had barely gotten the question out when she pinpointed the odor's source: "SKUNK!"

The family dog had been sprayed.

Neither Ash nor myself had ever dealt with a skunk spraying before, so we had to consult the 'webs. We found a lot of ideas and surefire cures, but unfortunately, they all involved stuff that we didn't have on hand. We finally ran across one post by someone claiming to have limited success with dishwashing liquid. So at 11:00 at night, I found myself kneeling next to the tub bathing a rather stinky, rather confused, and very unhappy dog in dish soap. I could almost hear his voice of protest. It sounded just like Bobcat Goldthwaite.

"That cat-looking thing sprayed its yuckies all over me for absolutely NO REASON, I was just trying to say hello, ya know? And now you people are giving me a bath? What gives man?"

I bathed him 3 times before it was all said and done, and his resistance grew with each lather-rinse-repeat. He still stank enough that we made him spend the night in the garage.

Of course, we still had the smell in the house to deal with. The dog had effectively rubbed skunk scent into the living room carpet, the very carpet we were planning to tear out at some point. It seems Some Point had arrived. We yanked up the carpet and hauled it outside. I made it to bed by about 1:30 after pulling up enough of the carpet tack to be reasonably safe, leaving the rest for the next day.

Saturday was supposed to be test-drive/buy car day for my wife, which meant she was going to get a pretty kickass Mommy's Day present. Instead, we spent the day purchasing new flooring, which is now sitting in its unopened packaging, waiting to be laid down very soon. We also bought some skunk smell remover at the pet store.

Now it just remains to be seen whether or not ours is the type of dog that learns his lesson on these things. Based on past experience, I'm not tossing out the Skunk-B-Gone anytime soon.

So how was your weekend?

Never ask this dog about his business

I came up with about a dozen different captions for this picture while I was rocking Henry back to sleep. Rather than foolishly agonize over which one to choose, I decided to just go with my first choice and then throw it open for a good old fashioned caption contest to see what you good people come up with. So please, leave your caption suggestions in the comments. Winner gets to win.

Speaking the word of dog

A new reality has descended upon the animal kingdom, which is that it has all gone canine. At least that's how Henry would have it.

See, "dog" was one of his earliest words. And he can point out a dog like nobody's business. If we drive past some man out walking his best friend, you can count on excited shouts of "dog!" from the backseat. If we arrive home only to hear Elliott barking his fool head off from inside, Henry's quick to put a name to the racket's source.

But dog is not limited to just actual dogs. When we look at pictures of animals, they're all dogs. The entire cast of the Farmer Says See And Say is dog, be they bird, amphibian, small woodland animal, or mud dweller. When we read Dr. Seuss, every fuzzy character is a dog. Reading The Foot Book goes something like this:

Holmes: His feet, her feet. Fuzzy fur feet

Henry: (pointing to large fuzzy beast thing) Dog.

Holmes: Small feet, big feet, here come pig feet.

Henry: (pointing to pig) Dog.

Holmes: That's a pig.

Henry (emphatically) Dog.

Holmes: Pig.

Henry: (slower, patiently, as if talking to a child) Dog.

And that's the thing that cracks me up, the little guy is so very patient with me when explaining what these things are (dogs, of course). One day he'll know the names of all these things and more, and even plenty of stuff his old man never quite got around to learning about. But right now, it's all dog, it's all good, and it's hilarious.

Report to the Commander

We had a little security breach here in the Holmes household this weekend. I suppose I could just tell you what happened, but to be perfectly honest, I'm pretty shaken up about it. With that in mind, I feel that it would be easier for me to talk about it and that you would more fully understand the complexities of this disturbing event if I re-imagined the whole thing as if it took place on the Battlestar Galactica. And I mean the new one with Edward James Olmos, not the goofy-ass old one. This promises to be dorky, but trust me when I say it's necessary. So without further ado:

Commander, a word please?
Yes Holmes, what is it?

Sir, I'm sorry to report that there's been a serious security breach aboard the Galactica.

I see. What happened?
Well sir, it appears that a prisoner has escaped.
Dear Gods, which one?
My dog, sir.
Your dog, Holmes?
Yes sir.
I see. And how did he escape?
Well sir, it would appear that he was released by an outside agent.
You mean he was let out?
Yes sir. Someone let my dog out of his kennel.
I see. So who was it?
Who sir?
Yes, who let the dog out?
Who let the dog out sir?
That's what I said, who let the dog out?
Of course sir. Well it was my son, sir.
Your son? But why?
They're close, sir. Best friends, you might say.
Are they in collusion with the Cylons?
What? No! Of course not. It's a baby and a stupid dog.
I see. And how was this escape executed?
Nothing fancy sir. The baby just crawled right up, opened the dog's kennel, and let him out.
That's pretty cute.
Sir?
I mean, uh, so you saw this happen?
My wife and I both did, sir.
How's your wife holding up?
What?
She's fine sir.
I'm frakkin' great!
Good. Any idea where the dog or the baby are now?
Aroo?
Turning yourself in eh? Wise move. And your accomplice?
Ya got nothin' old man!
Holmes, why are you wasting my time with this?
I'm sure that's the question on everyone's mind, sir.
No shit!