This is the face of the chocolate lab named after pie. He is communicating very clearly to me: "I guess you're disappointed in me...I'm so sad."
As we were just finishing up our evening wine last nite, about to head inside for dinner, a thundering of feet over flying pea gravel headed my way. It was Huck, foaming at the mouth and soaked in the effervescence of his main conquest in life, Mlle. Le Pew. He looked at me in a panicked state, saying, "Some thing's wrong, something doesn't feel right, help me!" We have tried explaining to Huck that Mlle. Le Pew really has no romantic interest in him, nor does she even want to be "just friends". But Huck's heart is so big, he wants everyone to come into his world and experience, reciprocate and expand with is love.
And so, at about 10 pm, after 2 glasses of wine, in the dark, I proceeded to give the 95.5 pound skunk lover a vinegar bath. As bats flew over our heads - the bewitching hour- Billy retreated to the house, and Martyn gathered towels and ivory liquid. Poor Huck had it bad this time, in the eyes and a direct intake in his mouth. He had to spend the nite in the 'for the skunked" area of the house.
I will not lecture him today about Mlle. Le Pew. Like all big hearted fellows, he must learn in his own terms. I do know he was very glad to see me this morning, after his 'skunk-out" was over. He came in the kitchen, not bounding in like usual, but in a rather embarrassed way, and with his big brown eyes asked me, "Are you still upset with me?...". I bravely gave him a morning kiss, even though the perfume of the nightly escapade was still lingering. I just think that if one gets skunked, one deserves a kiss. I've smelled worse, but I won't go into details.
