“Turn the pressure down!” I yell.

“Try the ketchup now.” Uncle Leo diverts the water with a finger.

I squirt the tomato gunk on Diesel’s neck, aiming for that yellow comma.

He whimpers.

“Massage it in, Naomi,” Dad tells me, still struggling to hold the dog.

I rub and scrub while Uncle Leo sprays and rinses. As the water hits Diesel’s fur, a smell wafts up — rotten tomato, burnt rubber, roasted cough syrup all combined. It grows stronger.

“That wasn’t enough ketchup. I’ll get my spaghetti sauce,” Uncle Leo says. He runs into the house and comes back with a couple of cans, garlic and hot pepper, both open and ready. Diesel licks at one. Tangy.

“Stop that.” I grab the can. Before he can dodge, I throw the contents toward his chest, but he ducks and the sauce lands on his head.

I see red! It stings.

“Sorry, boy!” I wipe away the sauce from his eyes and try to shampoo it into his neck. Meanwhile he licks it off my hands.

Dad empties another can on his back. Together we rub it all over him. He looks like a bad accident and reeks of charred lasagna.

“Get rid of that collar,” Uncle Leo says.

I unbuckle it and throw it toward the shed.

I’m wet, so wet! I want to run all over.

“Stay, Diesel.” I grab at the scruff at his neck.

“There. Not so bad now,” Uncle Leo says.

“You’re just getting used to it.” I breathe through my mouth so I don’t gag.

“Smells like an all-dressed burger,” Dad says. He yawns.

Uncle Leo shuts off the tap and hands me some rags. “Here. Dry him off.”

I rub gently at Diesel, but his milk-chocolate fur holds a rosy hue, and the white spots on his chest and foot are pink. The bitter skunk smell surrounds me. My fingers smell like skunk now, too.

Thank you, Naomi. Diesel licks my face.

“Let’s go inside,” Leo says. “Not him, though.” He points at Diesel.

“What, you gonna let him tangle with that skunk a second time? Uh-uh.” Dad shakes his head. “C’mon, boy. We’ll set you up in the basement.” He drags Diesel inside and down the stairs.

All alone. “Arooo!”

Diesel continues to howl as I bunk down on the couch in the living room. I stuff a pillow over my head so I don’t hear him crying, but I can’t shut out his thoughts.

I’m so alone. “Arooo!”

It’s cold down here!

Come visit me, please! “Arooo!”

“Poor puppy.” The entire house reeks of him anyway. My dad and uncle and me, too. I grab all the couch pillows and head downstairs to sleep with him.

How wonderful, you’re here! I missed you so much! Diesel wags his whole body as I arrange my pillows on the floor near him.

Yuck! The skunk scent still scalds my nostrils. My eyes water. “I don’t know if I can take it, Diesel.” I wander to the washer, find a dishcloth in a laundry basket, and tie it across my nose like a mask.