I’m not talking out-of-the-pot-or-oven dead rabbit. No sir. I’m talking been-dead-for-a-couple-of-weeks-under-a-tree dead rabbit. It’s among the most vile smells, to be sure. What made matters worse was the fact that the smell had legs (and wings). My dog didn’t seem to mind it much. Matter of fact, she thought it was so nice that she rolled around on the rotting carcus. Now, she knows better than that. Sure, she rolls in the cool grass on a hot day, but it wasn’t really hot and she had just been in the swimming pool (against her will). Couldn’t she have urinated on the thing instead of marking it with her entire body?
To make matters worse, I was at a friend’s parents’ house. I was helpless without knowledge of where to find the tools to battle such a malodorous emanation. I would need to borrow rubber gloves and shampoo immediately. They couldn’t argue once the stench had invaded the entire backyard and was making it’s way into the house. All entrances to the house in the immediate vicinity were shut, rubber gloves were produced and the Costco bottle of Finesse for dry skin was brought out. Everyone was on the verge of vomiting and Holly just didn’t understand any of it. I was panicking that she was going to be stuck with the odor while all the flies in the neighborhood were enjoying the moment and Holly was terrified by the site of the hose. She knew what was coming.
After a couple of washes and deciding that she was back to smelling like a wet dog that just shampooed with Finesse, the panic slowly subsided. The collar and gloves were promptly disposed of, so as not to attract vultures. Though slightly traumatized, Holly ate her dinner and crashed in front of the TV with the rest of us. I may have to do a line or two of vinegar to get the smell out of my nose.