In the early hours of last Monday morning, I smelled a rat.
And it wasn't the lingering stench from the preceding evening's presidential debate.
I really smelled a rat, well, more like -- ew! -- a skunk.
Eh, my house backs up to woods. Surely the pungency would dissipate in a matter of minutes. I got ready for the day and headed to Job. No. 1.
By the time I returned a few hours later, parked in the driveway and went in the front entrance to retrieve lunch for Job. No. 2, I had forgotten all about the skunk ... until I flung open the door. While the air seemed perfectly normal outside, the odor that greeted me inside was another -- gag! -- story. I did what I always do when I'm faced with something that stinks, so to speak.
I ignored it, hoping it would just go away on its own.
It didn't.
When I returned home, the smell -- which choked me the second I parked in the garage -- seemed even worse than before. As I wondered if something could be coming from the attic, I walked inside where the bouquet de decay had intensified in my home. It was in the laundry room, the kitchen, the living room, the bedrooms, the bathrooms. Everywhere. Everywhere but outside.
In my head I heard the horror music that plays when dumb gal realizes the killer is calling her from inside the house. Like the dumb gal, I wanted to run screaming upstairs to hide. But there was no upstairs. And even if there was, the skunk smell would have been there too.
I panicked that the smell could be coming from under the house -- maybe something took up residence or died! I didn't remember until I flipped through files and checked my inspection report, oh yeah, the house foundation is a slab (in my defense, I've only lived here a year), not crawlspace. Talk about spacing out. Clearly the fumes were getting to me.
Ignoring it wasn't helping the problem, so I would try something else.
Action? No. Whining on social media. A few Facebook friends recommended pest control companies. A couple of posts made me feel better ("I seem to remember reading something about tomato juice neutralizing skunk spray, otherwise, I've got nothing. It could be worse: At least it's not AXE body spray"). Others made me feel worse ("What if it's not skunk? What if it's bear? Bears STINK").
I'd burn candles. Maybe that would exorcise the vermin. Or at least perhaps the Pumpkin Pecan Waffles and Caramel Pumpkin Swirl scents would "squash" it into submission.
The next morning, it wasn't the alarm that woke me. It was a cold whiff of Pepe Le Pew-esque skunk funk, and it seemed to be blowing though the vent. When I vented to my boyfriend about the vent, he vowed to come over that night and investigate.
"I don't smell anything" he said when he walked in. Of course, he hadn't smelled anything for five days due to a cold, and his nose was no help. Still, we searched in closets and under furniture and did a thorough perimeter check of the property, and he examined the attic. Nothing. Nothing but nastiness. The skunk parfum persisted.
So did my dread. Having told friends and co-workers about this mess, I heard multiple horror stories -- bordering on suburban legends -- about dead squirrels in walls and rats in the dryer. The worst had to be about the family of squirrels that got into someone's duct work. It all had to be ripped out and the family had to spend six months at the Embassy Suites.
This night I not only burned candles, I opened windows, I blew fans and I Febreze-d, Glade-d and Lysol-ed every square inch of space.
When I woke up, I waited for the reeking to hit my receptors, but it didn't. I sniffed high and low and didn't detect anything. But I needed confirmation. I invited a dear friend who works in construction and has a super-sleuth schnoz (she once walked into a restaurant and declared "I smell arugula," as if arugula has a real smell) over for lunch to see if she noticed anything fishy, well, skunky.
The Smell CSI and her sniffer inspected every room, and she didn't find anything foul. We concluded a skunk likely sprayed near my home, maybe by the air unit, and that his critter cologne wafted inside and lingered for a few days.
Days later, the air is still sweet. But if that changes, I'm calling the pros and heading for the Suites.
Have you "scent" an email?
jchristman@arkansasonline.com
What's in a Dame is a weekly report from the woman 'hood. You can hear Jennifer on Little Rock's KURB-FM, B98.5 (B98.com), from 5:30-9 a.m. Monday through Friday.
Style on 10/18/2016