Dateline>City of Angels

“Uhh ohh, who got skunked?” asked the clerk behind the CVS counter. She seemed incredibly astute and chipper for someone working the graveyard shift.

“Does it really smell that bad?” I responded, sniffing the front of my shirt.

“No, it’s what you’re buying,” she explained. “All of that peroxide, baking soda and eye wash. You’re like the third person this weekend — always late at night, too. It’s like an epidemic.”

Yep. Skunk season has returned to the 90026, and knowing I wasn’t alone somehow made the 2 a.m. rush to the drug store a little less aggravating.

I’d gotten in late and, as usual, let the Dobies out to do their bedtime routine. But instead of trotting sleepily into the backyard like they normally do, they rushed past me and ran headlong down the hillside. Clearly they were after something.

It didn’t take long to find out what. Within moments, the tell-tale air of skunk permeated the canyon.

Ramses came bounding up from the thicket with a wildly panicked look. He’d managed to avoid the line of fire.

Isis wasn’t so lucky. I could see her in the clearing below, running in circles, sneezing, hacking and frothing at the mouth. When I got to her, one eye was swollen shut.

And of course she reeked.

So off to the drug store I went. For the record, a quart of hydrogen peroxide, a half cup of baking soda and a squirt of Dawn liquid really does work wonders. But it takes several applications (being careful to stay clear of the eyes, nose and mouth) and makes for a very long night.

I didn’t finally get to bed until 5 a.m., Isis didn’t fully recover until well into the next afternoon, and two days and three laundry loads later, there are still hints of skunk whiffing about the house.

You’d think that would teach two old dogs something new, but instead each night they just pace around the back door, hoping I’ll let them out for a second shot at “the one that got away.”

Stupid, stupid dogs.