Posted 05-29-2004 at 04:56:43
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...hoping to pick up a few calves. We drove forty miles, dragging the trailer and two small livestock crates, sat there for three hours, and came home with a freakin' rabbit. I almost bought two emus. I almost bought a tiny baby pot bellied pig. In both instances common sense kicked in just in the nick of time. We were bullied (with giggles and doe-eyed looks) to buy the rabbit for Jen as she was with us, and fell in love with a little black fuzzy something or other. Oh well, five dollars. No big deal.
The real fun started at midnight when we got home.
All Fred and I talked about on the drive home was going to bed. We were both exhausted. Fridays tend to be that way.
The minute I walked in the door I smelled skunk. Jake was the most likely culprit as he was sitting on the couch in the living room.
"Jake...are you skunky ?
"Did you get skunked?!"
"Not that I'm aware of."
"Is it possible that you wouldn't have noticed a thing like that if it happened?"
"I wouldn't think so."
"Can't you smell that?"
"I don't smell a thing. I got a cold. My nose is all plugged up." He sniffed then, a rattling sound, to emphasize his point. Just then Fred walked in behind me.
"What the *&!! is that smell?! Boy! Did you get skunked?"
I was starting to get a sinking feeling in my stomach.
"Jake...is Elvis in the house?" I asked.
He comes in at night, most nights, but the kids will always let him in if they're home alone. I have no idea why. If they really needed protection he would be useless. He's scared of his own shadow.
"Where's he at?"
"In your room."
Fred and I just about knocked each other down trying to get back to the bedroom. There was Elvis in all his stinky, skunky glory, stretched out like a dead dog in the middle of our king-sized bed. I heard a hissing sound and looked over my shoulder at Fred. He had gone all red in the face and I could see he was trying to form a word. I knew what that word was. (Jake!) I guess Jake did too, as I heard the front door slam behind him as he took off out into the yard and relative safety.
It was an hour and a full linen change later before we could stand to be in the bedroom. Jake finally came back in and Fred told him none too politely that Elvis was never, ever, EVER allowed in the house again. Period.
"You're lucky I'm letting YOU back in here."
Jake just sniffed his rattly sniff and tried to look innocent. There is still the faint aroma of skunk in the house, as I suspect Elvis also layed on the throw rug by the door, possibly the love seat, and maybe even our bedroom carpet. It may take me a week to route out all the places he left his calling card. Mean time we can only hope we catch Jake's cold, so we won't have to smell it either.