Catastrophe

When catastrophe comes...I know what it will look like. It will look like Molly catching the skunk that has taken up residence in the back yard.

Which brings us to last night.

Molly is not a real light sleeper. I'm pretty sure a burglar would get the TV halfway outta the house before little miss Rip Van Winkle finally awoke from her slumber. [But once she did, by god, there would be a LOT of barking.] So when she got up to go out in the middle of the night last night - I thought it was a real potty emergency and NOT just a critter that she was dying to chase.

Knowing that skunks like to hang around Rita's all you-can-eat vegetable garden....I thought I better put Magoo on a leash to keep her out of harm's way. Ummmm...just for the record...if a skunk is right outside your patio doors...that leash is not going to do you a damn bit of good. JUST as Molly makes a move for the rustling bushes, my dazed-3-a.m-ass figures out what the @#$% is going on, scoops up my dog and DIVES for the indoors. Omigod - it looked like I was auditioning for the next Bruce Willis movie [Spray Harder?]

Molly...meanwhile...begins running from office to bedroom, attacking the glass French doors in each room, itching for a fight [that she will lose like an overmatched American Idol contestant standing in front of Simon Cowell]. When I finally catch up to her in the bedroom, she is standing face-to-face with Pepe Le Pew, who has clambered onto the back porch and right up to the French doors in order to show us who's boss. Now, I've never seen a real skunk before, much less in the middle of a 3 a.m. wake-up call. So the glass door separating us did nothing to prevent my complete panic. Sounding a lot like Howard Dean after he lost Iowa, my only contribution to the moment is a hysterical-sounding shriek that seems to freeze both of them. "Aiyeeeeeeee!"

Thank god I leave every light in the house on when Rita's not here, because when I finally come to my senses, I have to race Molly to the other end of the house before returning to close what seem like 72 windows to the back yard. Molly immediately runs to the side entry of the house, sticks her head out of the little kitty door and continues her taunting. Jesus christ, Molly - if it were a coyote would you go up and introduce yourself?? Get away from the doors!

I wondered why the neighbors looked at me funny this morning, but it's probably because they heard a door-slammin', dog-barking, girl-shrieking hissy fit coming from the house last night.

Pepe never actually did spray us, but I am pretty sure the outside of Rita's house has one HELL of a malodorous clear coat.