I let her and her wonderful, well-behaved, tattle-tale "sister" out at 9:30. Darcy started her "Pig is doing naughty things and I want you to know that I'm the good dog!" bark at about 9:45. Darcy was standing outside the door ready to show us that she would never run off (and get caught doing it) and that Pig was gone. At 11:30, Hubby and I went to bed with no sign of the Pig Dog.
It was about 35 last night, so cold but not freezing. We live in the boonies so no worries about her getting hit or stolen. We left her ass out there with the door to the unfinished attachment to the house open so she could get "in" when she finally roamed back.
At 3am, I got up to see if she was around. As soon as I opened the bedroom door I almost puked. Like projectile vomit. The smell of skunk was horrible! I got Pig in and determined that she hadn't been sprayed--THANK GOD--but there was definitely a skunk somewhere on the premises.
|stock photo of one bad dog.|
she's called Pig Dog for a reason!
I guess the fucking thing got under the house somehow. It doesn't have a basement, but there is a large...underground room sort of thing where the water stuff is. I'm a good home-y type of person, can't you tell? Either way, the smell is starting to fade a touch, but God it was awful--and it's still pretty rank. We jumped ship at 4 and went out to breakfast at Denny's. Pig got a skunk smell bath anyway as she was crusty and stinky from whatever disgusting thing she had found to play in. I really hate nature sometimes.
|but look how cute she was! awwwww!|
On a positive note, the vet will be out Tuesday to Do Work on Robert. I'm going to see if anyone else at the barn wants the chiro out with me before I put a call in to her this afternoon.