I walked into the living room this morning and caught Jake and Dave in mid-conversation:

"I dunno, but we'll tell Mom and let her figure it ou.....oh, hey babe!"

"Let me figure WHAT out?"

Jake points towards Henry, who's sitting next to my usual spot on the couch and looking very sheepish. 

"Sit down, Mom" he said

"I dunno that I want to until someone tells me what's going on..."

"Stand next to Henry and sniff"

So I edged closer to Henry, who's looking more and more sheepish the closer I get.   As I got closer the need to sniff diminished - it was pretty obvious what the problem was.

He stank.  He had just come in from playing in the yard and he must've gotten into something out there.  He smelled like week old trash juice (you know the stuff the leaks out of the bottom of your garbage bags?  That unidentifiable liquid the dribbles all over the floor and ground as you're taking the garbage out?  The stuff that you find at the bottom of the can after the garbage men have taken away the trash? THAT'S what we call trash juice).  So anyway, Henry smelled like he'd rolled in week old trash juice...or a dead squirrel.  Or something incredibly heinous.  The way he smells when he's been getting fresh snacks out of the cat box is NOTHING compared to the way he smelled. He made me gag.  And I don't gag easily.

He just plain stank.  Bad.  I've smelled dead things right up close before, and he smelled worse than they did.

So, I bathed him with Dave's Prell and I'm soaking his harness in Pine-Sol to try and get the smell out of it.  I've sprayed Febreeze on the couch where Dave and Jake let him sit (and I'm going to have a little talk with them about that later) and I think I may finally have rid the house of the funk that was Henry when he came in from the yard this morning.

I know why dogs roll in stuff.....I just wish that Henry had found something slightly less odourous to wallow around in.