THE NEWS DESK
The News Desk is a collection of news, notes and breaking items affecting the Fredericksburg community.
Kitty’s tangle with a skunk creates a smell of a problem
THE OTHER morning when I looked out the back door, my old black-and-white cat was there staring through the glass as usual.
This time of the year, he stays outside most of the time. But on this particular morning, he wanted to come inside in the worst kind of way.
I should have known that something was up, but I opened the door and allowed him to slip inside as always. He hadn’t gotten two feet inside the door when it hit me.
Skunk! Sometime during the night, my old cat had had a rendezvous with a polecat.
This smell was fresh and rank. I don’t know what my old cat did to deserve getting sprayed, but whatever it was that polecat showed no mercy. He hit my kitty with all he had.
Now polecat smell doesn’t bother me in the least, but there are those who frequent my household who would not appreciate the pungent aroma of a skunk.
I was tempted to let the old cat eat his breakfast before I sent him back outside, but I knew that if I turned my back for one instant he would be up on a sofa or reclining chair stretching out for a snooze. That would have been bad.
Nope, he had to go and right away. So, I picked him up and tossed him out.
Needless to say, my cat was not thrilled with such treatment, but he did seem to exhibit some bit of understanding when I placed his food dispenser out on the back porch. He felt even better when I tossed out several slices of smoked turkey breast as a treat.
Cats, however, are not beasts of understanding and I knew this insulted feline would now want in the house more than ever. Before that occurred, however, I had to do something about that polecat smell.
My first offensive weapon was a spray can of Lysol. I figured a couple of shots of this might at least take the edge off the smell, so I cornered the old cat on the way to the mailbox and sprayed away.
A couple of squirts was all I could get off. Once the spray started, that old cat headed for the barn like a scalded dog. He was gone.
It was two hours later that he returned to the front porch. After a semi-close inspection, I discovered that the Lysol had not worked. That cat still smelled like Pepé Le Pew.
Now there is only one sure way to counteract skunk smell and that is with tomato juice. I don’t know how the tomato acid works, but it does—and that’s all that counts.
When I looked in the cupboard, however, I found that I did not have any tomato juice. So I went for the next best thing, a can of tomatoes. I really hated to waste a quart of tomatoes on a smelly cat, but I figured I had no other choice.
I thought the old cat would head for the hills when he saw me coming armed with a can of tomatoes, but he stayed put—until I started pouring that acidic liquid on his back.
Then it was all I could do to hold him down while I rubbed it into his fur. Somehow I managed to get the job done without getting clawed to shreds.
Once again, the old cat took off the instant I let go and I didn’t see him again until the next morning when he again appeared at the back door. When I let him in the kitchen, I found that he still smelled like skunk—though not quite as bad—so out he went again.
There was nothing left to do but go to the grocery story and get a quart of tomato juice and give the cat a thorough bath. You talk about wild! That cat about tore me up!
When I had wiped his black coat for the final time, I turned him loose and the cat shot off into the pasture beside the house. I didn’t see him again until almost dark.
By then he smelled much better. While the skunk aroma wasn’t totally gone, it had dissipated to the point where I figured it wouldn’t stink up the house too badly.
I just had to make sure the old kitty didn’t curl up on the sofa.
Well, you know what happened. Once inside the house, kitty ate his food and then headed straight for the couch.
Sorry, cat! Out you go again.
I’m going to try one more tomato juice bath. If that doesn’t work, I’ll just paint a white stripe down this black cat’s back.
If he’s going to smell like a polecat, he might as well look like one.
And those who come into the house will just have to live with the aroma.
Donnie Johnston:
