Skunked.... Again

Last summer, Sedona and Kersey got nailed by a skunk. The smell permeated the house, coming in the windows, swirling around the downstairs and settling on our bed. We woke to the acrid smell of skunk and found the dogs desperately rolling in the dirt in an effort to get the oil off. We didn't do the tomato juice thing -- they were outside dogs -- just waited for the smell to dissipate. My car, despite being in the closed garage, smelled like skunk all the way into the office and back, for weeks. Skunk spray up close and personal is nothing like the odor you get driving past a road kill specimen. It burns your eyes and your throat and it is inescapable.  You'd think Kersey would have learned.

This evening, Kersey and I went for our usual three mile walk. Our neighbor walked with us and we chatted about skunks, of all things. As Kersey and I approached our driveway, she suddenly started lunging forward, pulling on the leash. I saw something black, the size of a cat, move off the dirt road into the blackberry bushes. I thought "maybe cat; maybe skunk" and told Kersey to get a grip.

I left Kersey outside, on the front porch, while I made dinner. I knew she'd want a good long drink of water and to stretch out where the cool evening breeze could reach her. The water to cook our ravioli hadn't reached a boil yet when the smell of skunk came in the front windows. I stepped outside and saw Kersey down past the oak trees, in the stream bed, chasing something. She came to me, reluctantly, and I gave her fur a good sniff. She didn't smell any stronger than the surrounding air -- which smelled very strong. She had a hard time settling down in her crate and was clearly experiencing some discomfort in her mouth.

I washed her face with clear water and she stopped gagging; poor thing.   I took her out to the barn and washed her with a mixture of dish soap, baking soda and hydrogen peroxide.  It worked pretty well; the smell is greatly reduced.  She's sacked out now in her bed.

Country living at its best.

What Happened Jackson?

Sunday morning when Brett fed the horses, he noticed that Jackson was all scraped up.  He suggested that I go take a closer look.

Jackson was filthy so I walked him to the barn and gave him a bath while assessing his wounds, of which there were many.  Thankfully, they were all superficial.

He had claw marks by his withers and on his back.

Two fetlocks were scraped down to the skin.  There was a big scrape on his haunches and an even larger one on his front leg.  None of them were bleeding or tender, although the one on his leg was quite swollen.

I put Swat (fly repellent for wounds) on all the areas and hand walked him while he dried.  He munched on dry grass under the trees while Mufasa called like mad.

Mufasa came all the way up from the bottom of the pasture, and into the smaller pasture we call the bedroom, to be close to his buddy.

Mufasa was very happy when I brought Jackson back into the pasture.

Jackson was "meh" about the reunion.  Its funny how the horse who leaves doesn't care, but the ones left behind have meltdowns.

The swelling has steadily diminished and is completely gone now.

We do have mountain lions in the area -- and coyotes.  It doesn't look like the typical scrapes and scratches Jackson gets from playing with Mufasa, and engaging in mutual grooming activities.

Something jumped him or scared him so much that he got tangled up in a tree or the fence.  Jackson is a very level headed horse, not prone to panic, so something legit was out there.

I wish we he could tell us what it was.