Ruthie's nasty habit

Our electronic dog containment system has been inactive since the old garage was demolished six weeks ago.
Pete was always indifferent to it, either because his dense fur blocked the electric shocks or because he is just too high-spirited to care. But it has always been an effective way to keep Ruthie in the yard.
When it appeared she was catching on that the system was down, I reinforced her programming by putting the little white training flags arond the perimeter of the yard. That worked for awhile, but she's no longer intimidated.
We planned to install a temporary setup last weekend, but the time got away from us and doing anything like that during the week was out of the question.
So she has been going walkabout whenever the mood strikes her. I've had to chase her down in my car four times in the last couple of weeks. She never goes far and usually goes in the same direction - west down Mills Street toward the elementary school. Last week, she headed south to visit our neighbor Larry, who is housing or bikes in his barn until we have a garage again.
She took off again this morning when I put her and Pete out to do their business before Maria and I left for work. The first clue that she was gone came when Pete kept running back into the kitchen - I left the back door open for them - and looking at me anxiously, then running back outside. I finally figured out that he was trying to tell me Ruthie had done a bad thing - run off and left the yard. Pete leaves the yard too, but only for a few minutes at a time and he never goes more than two houses away.
I got into my del Sol and backed out of the driveway, planning to drive toward the school and search for the little old yellow dog. I had barely got the car pointed in that direction when I saw her looking at me and trotting back toward home from the baseball diamonds across the street. I whipped a U-turn and followed her as she loped up the driveway and waited for me at the back door.
That's when I caught a whiff of her new scent.
It was clear that she had been visiting with pigs or cows. We went through this a couple of years ago and, come to think of it, it was around this time of year. She apparently thinks she is more appealing if she rolls in poop - ideally pig or cow, but her own will do in a pinch.
So Ruthie spent the day in her kennel, will remain there tonight and will languish there in her own stink most of tomorrow while Maria and I shoot a wedding. I don't anticipate having time to bathe her until Sunday, which means the kitchen - where the dog kennels reside - will smell pretty rank for the next couple of days.