It is snowing like mad. White out! The weatherman predicts a storm to follow with winds up to and maybe exceeding 100 kmh. Even the locals are battening down. Tís weather not fit for man nor beast.

But exceptions can be made.

Bad weather is not such a big deal for us as a rule. We have ‘cocoon-ability’. And not much of a schedule to keep. The house is warm and comfy. We’ll be fine. We have all the food, wine, wood and shelter we need for at least week, probably two. The basics are covered.

Mind you, fresh air is a basic…………..

The real problem this time is only indirectly related to the weather. When it is cold or snowy, we (Sal) lets the dogs in. And we have done so these past few nights and even for good portions of the day. Some might call this ‘being humane’.

I have my doubts.

Sadly, I have to report that Meg has abused this privilege of extended hospitality. She is like fish and/or guests who have stayed more than three days. Odiferous in the extreme. It seems that Meg has discovered the motherlode of all otter latrines and has reveled in it. The smell is more than skin deep. Dogs like that sort of thing; eau d’otter.

I don’t.

So, what we have here is failure to relate on basic standards of hygiene. Communication is clear but polarized: she thinks she is irresistible. I think she is revolting. And Sal is trying to mediate this.

It is not easy. A cigar can be just a cigar but sometimes a dog is an otter’s anus.

Yesterday Sal washed the dogs and I dried them off. After drying Meg, it was worse. So, into the tub she went again. She emerged still stinky but not because we were running out of PERT Shampoo. She had been ‘perted’ generously. So, weakened in my resolve by PERT and OH! de POOP stench, I relented. She came into the house like the smell of a pulp mill in August.

Sal took them swimming this morning in the lagoon. She was the black creature from the lagoon. And she still stinks.

You might think that I should simply adjust. I can adjust to freezing temps, no water, isolation and, most of the time, to the inane nonsense spouted by CBC announcers (All Points West is so bad, I listen just so that I can write in to complain) but this is asking too much.

Tomorrow is a howling gale-cum-storm. I am going to lash her to an exposed tree. I’ll let you know how it goes.