My Wild Kingdom 
(or 7 Reasons to Smile with Riggs)
It's Crazy Out There…
My backyard is tiny and I live in the city proper. It’s not exactly Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom. (Does anyone else remember that?)
And yet, adventure comes to the dogs. In the past couple of days alone:
- A tiny racoon fell into the yard and barely escaped with Riggs’ hot breath on his striped tail.
- A baby robin very nearly became a feathered canape for Riggs and the parental cacophony continued for an hour.
- A big pile of fledgling robin poop proved too much for Riggs and down he went into a shoulder roll.
Everyone in the neighborhood knows his name because I’m always bellowing, “RIGGS, leave it!”
This is all good news, in a way. Last year, at this time, he wasn’t well at all and got into no mischief. So I'm very happy he's got energy to burn at age eight.
Wait… there's more…
That's not all, though.
Not by a long shot… from a skunk.
Let me set the stage.
It didn’t happen at last call, where I expect trouble. Nope, it was 8 a.m. on a lovely, sunny morning and somehow both dogs managed to get hit square in the face with a full strength, eye-watering blast from a striped warrior.
Meanwhile, I was inside making coffee #2 la-la-la and then I'm like “Whaaaat is that weird smell? I had better let the dogs in…”
[Sidebar: at first it doesn't smell quite like skunk, even when you put your face right up to it. Maybe just take my word for that.]
Letting the dogs back inside was a single-coffee mistake. I highly suggest NOT letting two freshly skunked dogs into the house. Or even one for that matter. Then the house reeked, too. And the rug where Riggs rubbed his face… well, the less smelled the better.
Bright sides (because there always are):
1. I was mad at the groomer for shaving them bald. Now I kinda love her.
2. I had enough hydrogen peroxide on hand to make a double dose of the “magic solution.” Mabel got hit last year and I’d restocked. Remarkably, Riggs had never been “skunked” in eight years. Till now.
3. They kind of needed a bath anyway. Mabel was getting an overall gray tinge.
4. The chatty 4-year-old boy three doors down came out to see what the stink was about and stayed to enjoy the show, which helped distract me. We made his day!
5. It was warm enough for Riggs to shake off the chill of the bath off; his teeth were chattering audibly and the poor boy barfed from the stress of it all. (He hates baths; Mabel loves them.)
6. I had renewed my supply of coffee pods the day before and was able to have another couple of hits before taking my own shower.
7. Social distancing was a total breeze that day.
So there you have it… City life, with dogs.