Thursday, January 21, 2010

AHHH The Sweet Smell of Hot Tar or The things we do for love (of cairns)

Written by a CP Transport Volunteer

So since the mom is visiting and I don't have enough to do, I volunteer us to help do a 6 plus hour transport today. Everything starts out well, we pick up 3 sweet little furbutts in Oklahoma and will drive them back here to Texas. We meet one foster mom just north of Dallas, Texas and continue on towards Corsicana, Texas with the other 2 furbutts. The little male is making all kinds of racket in the crate but it's ok, mom and I just talk louder. Twenty minutes later it gets very quiet, too quiet. Mom and I stop talking and look at each other questioningly. Then it happened. THE SMELL!!! THE WORSE SMELL EITHER OF US HAVE EVER AND I MEAN EVER SMELLED IN THE WHOLE WORLD!!!

Now we know why the boy was scratching at the crate. It is hard to watch the road, the eyes are watering like a faucet. I roll down the far back windows, not enough. I roll down the back windows, still not enough. I roll down the front windows, I think it is getting worse! I open the sun roof and drive as fast as possible. Better. People in the cars we zoom by are looking at us as though we have horns out our ears. We both have our shirts pulled up over our noses, mom has her jacket hood on backwards and I have my face buried in the crook of my arm, I am driving like my butt is on fire so I can't cover my entire face like my chicken mom. A car passes us with a lab's head sticking out the window so mom and I try it, doesn't work, too hard to reach the peddles. Just then a semi truck pulls in front of me and he is hauling a load of hot tar. Mom and I look at each other and say "AHHH the sweet smell of hot tar!"

I realize that in just a short time I will be handing off this retched smelling dog to a relatively new foster mom who will have 3 hours drive back home. Can't do it. So I stop at a couple of gas stations until I find a cooperative one. This one not only has an outside water hose but a fenced side yard that I can safely remove the dog from the crate and hose everything down. Turns out it was not the noisy boy but the quiet girl who had the problem. Mom looked at me and said "Why did the boy get so quiet if it wasn't him that went in the crate?", I told her it was because he was too busy covering his nose with his paws!

We spray a can full of Lysol I keep in the van for shelter id's and load everyone back in. Everything is better, wet but better, eyes have almost stopped watering and we drive on. Mom has a whole new respect for the work I do and the smells I go through for Col. Potter. She said something about not ever going with me again, but hey, that makes it almost worth it. CP rules were followed, no dogs were loose or in any harm. We complete the transport on pins and needles waiting for THAT smell again, never happened. Mom will be here for another week, I hope this was the worse CP has to throw at me.

No comments: