Tap, tap, tap, on the wooden floor, it's Duke circling our bed; his polite manner of asking to be taken outside. Out he goes and I return to bed, waiting for Duke's characteristic bark that says Okay Daddy, I'm ready to come in now. It is two o'clock in the morning at the Duarte "Ranch."
Duke is taking an extraordinarily long time to call me to the backdoor, when suddenly a dog owner's worst nightmare materializes in the form of a most characteristic odiferous pungent odor.
"Connie! Duke has been skunked again!"
"Oh no, not again!"
Lights flash on, doors slam and there is loud stomping on wooden floors. And so the all too familiar "Chinese fire drill" begins again.
There stands Duke at the backdoor, with the most mournful look: eyes squinting, ears drooping, as if to say Oh Daddy, he got me again.
I thought to myself, Okay it's time for operation "De-skunk the Dog!"
"Connie, quick get the two liters of tomato juice, I'll get the shower ready."
The water to the shower is on, with its temperatures adjusted, not too hot, or too cold.
"Ray, there's no tomato juice!"
"What! There's got to be something we can use!"
"How about the Bloody Mary mix?"
"YES! Bring it on, good thinking!"
I have carefully maneuvered Duke into the shower and have started The Duarte "Ranch" Treatment for de-skunking the dog.
The Bloody Mary mix has spices, so I make sure to keep it away from Dukes eyes.
"Connie!"
I desperately yelled from the shower.
"Yeah?"
She replied from the kitchen.
"We now need the two liters of Coke."
The spray from a skunk has an oil base. The tomato juice and the Coke will help remove most of it.
"Ray!"
"Yes"
"I can't find the Coke, but we have some Diet Cherry Pepsi."
"How much of it do we have?"
"Two Six Packs"
"Excellent! Bring them both."
Duke was first lathered with two liters of Bloody Mary mix. This solution with a tomato base has been rinsed off. Now for step two, we will baste the doggie with two six packs of Diet Cherry Pepsi. He is now rinsed and nearly huggable now, for la piece de resistance!
We will lather Mr. Duke with none other than
"HEAD AND SHOULDERS!?"
Yes, "Head and Shoulders"; one whole bottle, I was desperate, focused, and determined - Whaala! Dukie is now huggable.
When we first adopted Duke, he was eleven months old. The first night he slept in, and trashed, the garage. As if to say this is not my room. The second night I took him into each room of the house and like in the movie "Turner and Hooch" I role played Tom Hank's character - Detective Scott Turner, as I said to Duke
"You see this room, this room is the living room - this is not your room."
Duke would look at me and tilt his head to one side, defiant to the process; his non-verbal saying to me, what are you talking about?
"And do you see this room," I continued, "this room is MY bedroom, and this is not your room."
Then I took him to the pantry and sternly said -
"THIS IS YOUR ROOM."
Duke stood there, wagging his tail as if to say yeah sure, Daddy.
30 days later, our home became the Duarte "Ranch" as Duke got us use to his presence anywhere he wished. Like an eight hundred pound gorilla, Duke would sleep anywhere he wanted to, including our bed. Not bad for a sixty-five-pound Lab, Border-Collie, Shepard mix.
Unlike "Hooch", Duke has always been a gentlemanly dog. His fur colorings mostly black with a white chest, making him appear as if he were constantly wearing a tuxedo. My son David kept saying that the white stripe was on the wrong side.
Duke, in his own way, warned us about the quake that hit Northridge in 1994.He woke us up at 4:25 A.M. and had us take him outside. The quake started five minutes later. It was moments like this when I wished I could "mind-meld" with him, but I was always afraid of suddenly chasing the first car that would race around the corner.
With the ground shaking, Connie cried out -
"Dukie is outside!"
I said, "don't worry about the dog, he's better off than we are; unlike us, he is out of the house."
Years passed. One night I came home and as I opened the door, my olfactory nerves were assaulted with a smellfor which I was certain the old dog wasresponsible for. I was unhappy. I should take down the FOR SALE sign I thought to myself. How the heck can this house be shown - If it were me, I would immediately leave and not view it at all. I went upstairs; Connie was awake.
"Connie, don't be upset, but we have to seriously re-evaluate whether we should take Duke with us to North Carolina. He will probably survive the trip but it will be, at best, difficult."
Connie, as Duke's constant advocate, sternly snaps.
"You want me to put him down, don't you?"
Knowing, that now, I was in trouble, I softened my tone a bit.
"No honey, but perhaps we should consider the DAWG organization."
Connie was visibly upset.
"Well, we need to think about this." Promptly, I left the room to assure my safety.
I then went downstairs insistent to see what it was the dog had done to make the house smell so bad. I keep thinking to myself, how in the world are we going to show the house with such a strong doggie smell.
Now, standing in the Kitchen I suddenly smelled gas! I look over to the stove and I find one burner on, but no flame. Seems that for hours the house had been filling with natural gas. Quickly, I turned off the gas, opened every window, turn on all five ceiling fans, and then went into the garage for the floor fans.
Thank God for the discovery of a gas leak, for the large square footage of the house, for the fact some windows were somewhat open; that natural gas never made its way to any kind of pilot light, and that none of us went to sleep without the gas leak discovered and stopped.
I visited Duke in the pantry, leaned over gently petted him, while saying, "Good dog, good dog" as an apology for my earlier accusatory thoughts about him.
Truth be known, I love that dog; He has been my friend, at times my best friend. He's a little old feller now, so we will do anything we can to help and comfort him.
Duke has always been playful with every person he meets, he loves to take walks and with his leash on, it is easy to see; who is walking whom. To this day he is still quite the social butterfly, wagging his tail to everyone he meets, a perfect greeter with Tux and Tail.
