During the first few days of dealing with my hamstring (now named Tammy the Hamstring. Why not name your hamstring?), it hurt to walk but it was Zeda who really suffered. Gone were our morning walks; our 5K afternoon walks were also put on hold until I felt more mobile. In the mornings, I let Zeda out in the backyard, fed her and watched her sulk until one of the boys woke up and could take her around the block.
On Friday morning, Zeda went outside, roamed the yard and visited her usual spots. She found a stick to chew, mud to dig into and a skunk to play with. Well, somebody forgot to tell the skunk that Zeda just wanted to play. The backyard reeked. It was so bad that I initially couldn’t tell if it was the yard or her that smelled. I called Zeda and did the sniff test; Dave smelled her too. We agreed that it must have been the neighbour’s dog that got skunked because she didn’t smell all that stinky…until she had been inside for about 10 minutes. I heard bedroom doors suddenly slam shut. It was obvious that our Zeda had been skunked.
Zeda and I headed back outside to bathe her. Dave bought a skunk shampoo a few months ago – the “just in case” purchase that makes perfect sense after 3 previous late night skunkings with Chase, our previous fur-baby. Zeda had a 45 minute bath with 3 shampoos and rinses. The next day, Dave washed her again. The smell still lingered.
While he walked her that afternoon, a fellow dog-parent told Dave, “Do you know what really works? A female douche. (Is there any other kind?) It’s full of chemicals and takes the smell out.” So, when Dave got home, he asked me to pick up a “female douche.”
“A what???”
“It’s suppose to work. So if you’ll get one, I’ll help you with it.”
“You want me to go to the drug store to get a douche shampoo? I know kids who work at there. There is always one of my former students on cash on Saturdays. They’ll talk… or start a rumour.” Dave looked at me and repeated, “I’ll help you. Get the product: a female douche. This is out of my territory.”
Obviously. I didn’t know if I should laugh or cry. It was bad enough that Zeda got hit by a skunk because Tammy was being a pain in the butt and making it difficult for me to walk. But now I had to go to the drug store to pick up a douche shampoo. I toyed with the idea of driving to the other end of town where no one would know me, but I pulled on my big girl shorts and headed to my local Shoppers.
I honestly didn’t know what to get for Zeda. “Do I buy the $4.99 one or the $24.99? Okay, let’s eliminate the ones with applicators. We don’t want gels. Hmmm…lemon coconut…maybe scented would be nice. Nope, let’s get that one; it looks like Johnson’s baby shampoo.” So I picked up a bottle of Vagisil and bee-lined for the cashier, paid for the shampoo, walked out of the store – without even asking for a bag! – and prayed that I wouldn’t walk into somebody I know.
When I got home, Dave was ready. He rinsed Zeda’s coat and I washed her again: over her head, covering her mouth, around her eyes and in the nostrils. Suddenly, a purchase with an applicator made a lot of sense. We let everything soak in her, rinsed her off and, as we did, we could smell the stench being pulled from her. We repeated the process and, during Zeda’s second scrubbing, I asked, “Who thought of this anyway?”
“The guy I ran into while walking her.”
“No, who originally thought of this? Why would someone use a douche shampoo on a dog? Whatever would possess them to think of that?”
And that remains a mystery. At first, I thought that a genius idea like that had to be a woman’s. Then, I thought it came from a guy who panicked when his dog was sprayed, ran into the bathroom to get some soap and grabbed the wrong bottle. I’m surprised that something so effective did not end up on the list of “accidental inventions” or a DIY life hack video.
As we cleaned up, I said to Dave, “I’ll leave the Vagisil here with her other shampoos. It will be a conversation piece.” I carefully placed the bottle on the toolbox next to his workbench and retreated to the safety of my kitchen. Then, I added Vagisil to my list for my next trip to the drug store.
