My cat Bisy got skunked for the second time this week. Being 11-years old and full of wisdom, you think he would've learned from the first time when he got it full force, right in the face. The first time was in May a few years ago, just after my current housemate moved in. A faint whiff of an odor became stronger and stronger and somehow I knew that Bisy was involved. I remember my housemate admitting that he didn't always find the smell offensive, but then changed his tune, and facial expression, as it grew sharper.First a mournful cry, then a drool covered, matted face appeared at the patio doors. I opened the door a crack and grabbed Bisy by the nape of the neck to test him. The smell was intense, so oil-like, that I thought he had gotten into something in the garage. I carried him to the garage to check to see if there were any spilled liquids, and even called the vet who assured me that the smell was skunk and a full on hit can smell pretty oily.
Needless to say the de-odorizing wasn't pretty. It was 11 o'clock at night (and a day before I was leaving on vacation) with no nearby store open. I remembered the tomato juice method and searched the cupboards. No TJ. The closest thing I had (thinking that acid neutralizes the stink) was pineapple juice…so I used that. For those of you who have never tried to clean or bathe a cat, it isn’t an easy chore, especially one who is already freaked out.
I manage to get Bisy in an old dog crate and covered him with the juice. He wasn’t happy at all and became even more agitated when I dumped warm water on him to rinse him off. Even confined to a crate, a pissed-off cat covered in a combination of pineapple juice and skunk oil is no match for a man. He fought his way out and bolted into the woods looking like a wet rat.
After an hour or so, he appeared on the deck. My rinse job had not been too thorough and the pineapple juice caused every leaf and twig to stick to him. He was quite the sight in his new, camouflaged state. I had to chuckle. I managed to get a better rinse on him, but he bolted again, eventually came back and over time, with the help from store-bought wonder remedy, the smell went away.
For his most recent skunking, in the fall, I was better prepared. Again, a faint odor became more piquant and I feared the worst. Then, that cry, and that face at the patio doors....This time the coverage wasn’t as intense. But I had lent my Skunk-Off to a friend and had to drive over to retrieve it. This time donning work gloves, I put Bisy in a big box and sprayed and wiped him with the stuff. He bolted.
A friend told me about a skunk smell diminisher recipe he had seen on a television show so I went on-line and found it. What seems to work best is a combination of hydrogen peroxide, dish soap and baking soda…and my household lacks those ingredients. No worries, the Skunk-Off works well. However, the recipe seems to be dog centered and calls for a complete rinsing. Good luck rinsing a cat.
Why I added this story to my blog is that the day after Bisy's most recent skunking, on my way to work, I noticed an unusual amount of skunk road kill on the road. I’m talking a lot. Plus, my school's principal sent out an email relating how a skunk had let go outside the window of his basement office and the stench was stronger than his hockey gear bag smell. Ouch. Enough said.
My friend’s male answer syndrome (MAS) response to the high skunk activity was that they are all out doing some last minute foraging before the winter. For those of you unfamiliar with MAS, it's a male's habit of concocting an answer to a question he really can't answer. Instead of merely saying, "I don't know," they make up a plausible answer. C’mon!? It’s early fall and the beast have fur coats…fur coats that NYC women wear on cold evenings out to dinner and a show. I’m not buying it. So....Where do skunks go in the winter?
