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Dogs & Fabreeze

The Riff-Raff Element

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On the off-chance you are being serious, no.

Febreze (or at least Proctor & Gamble) say that it is safe to use around pets (not birds) but should not be sprayed directly on to them. So it's back to a tin bath in front of the fire and a bar of carbolic soap. Mind you, that might be almost as harmful.

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I saw on a French site about using diluted white vinegar (to wash the house) which gets rid of smells and is also supposed to stop dogs peeing where you have put some.

Then I found this site, where under number 4 it says to use vinegar on dogs to get rid of smells, I would dilute it though.



White vinegar can be used for so many things

Tout nettoyer, du sol au plafond, avec le vinaigre blanc



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[quote user="beryl"]Don't bother with Febreeze just stick him in the washing machine. [:P][/quote]

It's (It? Alright, she's) a Gordon Setter. I'd never get her in the top loader. Honestly, I am joking about the fabreeze, though I confess there was a moment....the "scent" comes from a pile of manure on a goat farm we walk past sometimes. Today the 100 tonnes or so of goat poo was gone to be spread around the fields, and all that was left was a black puddle. Well, you can imagine the smell.

I really hate that dog.

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No you don't.

Not as much as when your kids walk in fox crap and then tread it into the carpet of your car so that you have to smell it all the way to work  and then back again.

Or when you leave the kitchen drawer open and the cat is sick in the cutlery tray.

Or when the (different) cat sleeps on the banisters but has diarrhea.

Or when next door's tom comes in and pees in your new Timberlands and all under your computer desk where you left them.

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Or when your dog jumps over a fence and impales himself on a spike and you have got to lift him off on your own.

Or when the same dog jumps over the same fence two weeks later and almost severs his manhood.

Or when the same dog chases the towns most violent lunatic on a bike and bites him on the a rse and demands you have him put down so you have to shave his wavy coat, give him to your mother and change his name to Bob.

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It wasn't the chihuahua, it was the Pekingese, my mistake.

It's all very simple, really.

This was a very feisty, but lazy, dog. Quite large for a Peke, very hairy, once made an Alsatian run away yelping. Long tail, curled over his back.

Said dog was a b***er for getting close to the fire for a nap. One day he pushed the envelope just a little too far, and set fire to his tail through the bars of the fireguard (you couldn't get the fireguards in the olden days, you know) but because of all the fur he didn't realise that he was on fire, although he clearly smelled something (we all did) and got up to investigate.

In doing this his tail flipped forward and set fire to the fur on his back.

We now entered a state of pandemonious panic. We tried to grab the dog. The dog, being a feisty little so and so, thought this was a great game and ran away. We now had the situation of mother and two kids trying to chase a flaming dog (who was having a great time, as the conflagration hadn't affected his skin yet and he thought we had just all gone mad) around a small flat. The kids were worried about the dog, mother about the fire insurance for her belongings. Dad was keeping his own counsel.

This continued for some time - or at least it felt like some time - at least 3 laps. On the final lap, as the dog (Kim, it was called) was passing the kitchen doorway my father stepped out with a large saucepan of water which he used to extinguish the dog. And me.

We cleaned the dog up, removed the charred fur (I can still smell it!) and wiped up the water. As I recall I got blamed for being wet.

Hence the saying in our family, "I haven't laughed so much since the dog caught fire."

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The worst doggy tale I have involved my current dog.  He was about 6 months and just finding his feet.  I took him for a walk around my hamlet when he disappeared into a neighbours garden.  When a called him, he reappeared with a pair of soiled pants which he had found presumably in my neighbours garden.  Sorry for the detail, but these pants were FULL.  Then, I was suddenly filled with dread as I realised I had left my front door wide open (we still do that around here).  I froze and stared at him.  He looked at me with an evil glint in his eye with his tail wagging furiously.  With that I scarpered back to the house as far as I could to get there before him.  I have NEVER run so fast in my life with the dog in close pursuit clinging onto his "treasure".

How I got to the house before him, God only knows.  I ran in and slammed the door so he could not get in.  The way he shook my neighbours pants in the garden terrified me into thinking what could have been.  

I often hate dogs and can no longer look my neighbour in the eye.

Sorry for sharing that with you.[:(]

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