Tuesday, February 24, 2009

What Is That.--Smell?!

At first I thought I was hallucinating the smell. I was sitting on Jennifer's couch, downloading something from the internet, and I noticed a whiff of something unpleasant.

It would come and go. Jen and I were talking about Slutty Coffee Shop Girl, whose life is at least a hundred times worse than either of ours put together, and all by her own doing. Then I would knit some more and smell it again, lift my knitting and smell it--nothing--and go back to talking.

This went on for over two hours.

Looking back, I now know where the smell was coming from. Here it is: my laptop.

Yes, my laptop somehow, though it was across the house from my dog and all sources of odor, has picked up the eau de skunk. Isn't that just fantastic?

It has been well over a week since the tragedy struck our home, Darcy rubbing her eyes against the snow, late night vet emergency calls. But there it is, like a green cloud in an old cartoon, following all of us, everywhere we go.

The house smells great now, it never held on to the odor, but random objects absorb the scent. Here are a few of mine: my laptop, the inside of my purse (though no object in the purse has the scent of skunk, just the purse's inside), and the thumb of one of my mittens.

Explain that to me. How can skunk odor leap from one part of the house, one source, to another that the dog had no tactile contact with whatsoever, in her lifetime. My dog has never touched my laptop. Ever.

So today I dedicated myself to attacking what was once the source. I de-skunked Darcy's face and neck four times throughout the day and will follow it up with a few more de-skunkings when I get back from where I am now, Paul's dorm. The smell will go away. The smell must go away.

Until it does, I will wipe down the keys of the laptop with a cleaner thing. I will wash my gloves, do what I can with my purse, and chant voodoo blessings each time I open my purse, driving out the evil spirit that has taken up residence there. Soon, if all is well, I will not have to stop in my tracks, or lift my leg up to my face to smell the cuff of my jeans in a yoga-type move that surprised and impressed Jennifer.

Soon I will be free.


  1. This has nothing to do with your blog, but on the topic of public responsibility. I noticed that my newly purchased bag of resealable cough drops has the following directions printed on the bag:
    1. Tear along strip
    2. Separate to open
    3. Press to reseal
    What standard have we set for the general public when we have to tell them how to operate their cough drop container?

  2. That's great. Kind of like the warning on coffee cups at McDonalds (warning, contents may be hot).