So, I've been jonesing for more time in the desert lately, 1.) because

it's winter and, thus, slightly less hazardous for the dogs and 2.)

winter light in the desert makes for some rockin photos. THUS – I

decided yesterday morning that I would pack up the kids for a 2 day trip

down to the Mojave (Hurricane Rosie, after all, has never seen the

desert). So my hound, Zig is a seasoned traveler/overnight camper/road warrior and

I'm not too worried about him, but the girls have only overnight camped

in the backyard, never out under a very large sky with weird noises. So

I pack lots of 'comfort' stuff for them – more treats, soft padding for

the tent, etc. And we are ready to depart Fresno by 1:30ish.

Mistake

#1 – leaving late in the day, knowing full well that we will cut it

close for getting to our campsite (red rock canyon) before the sun sets.

I reason that, had I been a little smarter, I would have made sure we

were there well before sundown so the girls could get the 'lay of the

land' and it wouldn't have been as scary.

We head out

and the dogs settle in to their typical  car spots. I decide to take slightly

longer cut-off road to the east side of the Sierra (mainly because I

had never been on that road and wanted to explore). Plus it went by Lake

Isabella and I hoped the dogs could have a break and swim.

Mistake

#2 – taking an unknown road on a tight timeline. Turns out that

particular cutoff, although beautiful, is ridiculously winding and

chaotic. Rosie starts to get a little car sick, which makes me feel

awful and we have to stop for several breaks to let her regain her

equilibrium. This kills my timeline completely.

We eventually make it up and over the pass, Rosie riding shotgun, as the sun is going down.

 

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We turn south for red rock canyon, which is still half an hour away in

the dark. The campground is thankfully almost deserted (1 RV-er all the

way on the other side of the CG). We find my favorite site and I let

everyone out. The girls are put on long lines to prevent them wandering

off in the dark and I'm keeping an eye on the zig as I set up the tent.

Everyone gets fed and walked around a bit. The moon is already up and

it's bright enough to read a book by. Which is awesome. Here are some

pics taken long after sundown (10pm?) – creepy, eh?

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Sadie is a bit nervous and growls everytime a nearby owl calls out. I

call back a few times (flirting) and Sadie gets the message and settles

down. Rosie is amazing. She crawls right in the tent, finds the warmest

sleeping bag and lays down to sleep.

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Meanwhile. The zig suddenly appears with this in his mouth and I freak

out until I realize it was roadkill he picked up somewhere on the dirt

road nearby. I make him drop it and then chuck it up on top a big rock

for the owl. (PS: it's fricken winter, wtf is a snake doing out at 50

degrees?)

As I turn back from chuckin the snake, I hear Zig's 'OMG OMG OMG' yip

and locate him trying to 'herd' something small down the road. I catch a

glimpse of white stripe and practically scream "LEAVE IT'!!!! Zig stops

and looks directly at me. I call 'good boy and come'. He takes a few

steps my way. the skunk is holding it's ground and watching us both.

Mistake #3 – I turn my back to grab the camera.

No

sooner do I break eye contact than I hear the yip again and whip around

to find zig mid air on a pounce. The skunk lets it rip. Right in his

face and chest. Zig starts yowling like a scalded cat and crying

hysterically. The girls, with impeccable timing, leap up and begin

barking at the unknown threat. I am chasing ziggy, trying to

simultaneously grab him and stiff arm him at the same time. My eyes are

immediately watering when I'm within 10 feet of him and I have a brief

urge to dry heave. Zig is still bucking up and down like a brahma bull

and I finally make the executive decision to tackle him. Down we both go

– arms and legs flailing and redolent of skunk. The skunk, by now, is

looooong gone. I grab our water supply and use 2 gallons (half my stash)

to dilute his face and head. He stops the frantic freak out once it's

out of his eyes and (I spit you not) the little arse starts looking

around and wagging his tail. I wanted to club him like a baby seal.

So.

There we were. both soaking wet in 45 degree temps. stinking so badly

my eyes won't stop watering and the girls are both sneezing continuously

despite being 15 ft away. Did I mention – we were at least an hour from

the nearest town. No water supply except what I brought in (4 gal, of

which we have 1.25 left). No instant skunk odor remover/tomato paste/

etc. And, oh yeah, it's now midnight. I had budgeted enough

water/supplies to get us through the night and was planning on stocking

up in barstow, but that is a moot point now.

In my panicky, eye

watering, nose running, dry heaving wisdom, I grab the only thing with

an odor available in hopes of reducing the potency of the skunkness. It

happened to be a guava flavored rockstar energy drink. I realize that

the whole mission is going to have to be aborted in light of the skunk,

but I can't imagine letting Zig in the car ever again. I pop the top on

the rockstar and rub it all over his face and neck (PS: it actually

seemed to help a tiny bit) I then swaddle zig (soaked in rockstar) in

the 'dog comforter' and then buckle his harness over the top of the

whole mess so he is partially immobilized. I set a speed record packing

the car and breaking down camp. Zig is still lying there, whimpering

softly and staring at me. We are 3 hours from home if I go 'the fast

way' and drive like a banshee. I still have the powerful urge to retch. I

start the car – turn the cold fan on high and roll down all the

windows. I strip to my undies and pack the skunk clothes in a garbage

bag. I then put on every piece of clothing available including 2 beanies

and 3 pairs of socks. I heave zig into the very back of the car and

clip a short lead from him to the rear door handle so he can't come up

front. I settle him as best I can then load the girls who are still

trying to figure out what the heck happened. I drive out, heading for

home and breathing as shallowly as possible through my nose. It is loud,

cold and windy and I contemplate strapping zig to the roof rack. I have

to pull over twice in the first hour to dry heave and chew some gum

trying to get the chemical smell out of my sinus. The zig is asleep in

the back. Git.

We finally make it home around 4:30 in the

morning. I take care of the girls, then strip the blanket off Zig and

make him get in the tub.

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I rinse out the rockstar and use up 3 cans of tomato paste on him. He

still smells, but it's tolerable if you stand at least 10 feet away.

Worse – the little bugger is back to his cheerful self after the bath

and wants to play and romp. I contemplate throttling him slowly. I am

exhausted/still damp/and reeking to high heaven. I put zig in 'the dog

room' by himself for the night. The girls are already on the couch,

sound asleep. I take a long scalding shower and use up an entire bottle

of technu (poison oak remover) which does a pretty good job of removing

most of the smell. I sleep on the floor in a sleeping bag for fear of

contaminating anything else since the cleanup is already going to be

horrendous.

So there you have it. Adventure is not always bright

and fun and happy times. Sometimes it goes horribly horribly wrong. The

zig is now  tolerable after being doused in technu, although his head still has a

faint odor. His spirits, alas, are undiminished, although the whole

debacle has aged me 5 years. learn from my fail. Til next time…….

Cheers,

Kat