My sense of smell is very acute. In fact, it was a standing joke at home that I could smell freshly cooked sausage rolls from 200 yards. It was no good Mum trying to hide them as I would sniff them out and pinch one.
You know what they say. If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, sounds like a duck and smells like a duck, it must be a duck. OK, I can buy that.
Those of you familiar with some of my posts know how much I like dogs. Imagine then the scenario of having one that isn’t exactly tolerant of other dogs, and suddenly introducing a puppy into the fold.
In this instance, we’d heard of a 15 week old rough collie pup about to be put down simply because the owner had grown tired of it. I didn’t hesitate and said bring it home. My bitch had just finished her season and I had a plan. We smuggled the puppy into the house via the back door and wrapped him in her blanket. We made sure he was well and truly covered with her scent before bringing her in. If we apply a human element, I reckon her thoughts would have gone something like this:
I don’t remember having this.
This is my bed, and this ‘Thing’ is in my bed.
It smells like me.
(quick check of one’s own bits to make sure)
Yep. It definitely smells like me.
But I don’t remember having it.
This is me (another quick sniff of bits), and this (checking out bits of ‘Thing’) smells the same.
So, if this is my bed and this ‘Thing’ smells of me, then it must be part of me, even if I can’t remember, and therefore mine.
Instant acceptance. She even ‘house trained’ him by nudging him out of the door every time she went out. We had no problems whatsoever, they shared food and water bowls, and he accepted that she was Top Dog (mind you that could have been because the one and only time he tried to get one over on her, she knocked him flat and sat on his head.)
Most dogs love me. I just seem to have a knack with them, regardless of breed and they know I’m a friend. We all know dogs have a terrific sense of smell, which is why they sniff at our hands or faces (if you don’t mind that). They also ‘baste you’ by licking your hand (or ear) and obviously something in your scent and flavouring is pleasurable and acceptable to them.
It doesn’t matter where I am, or what coat or jacket I’m wearing, all dogs automatically go for my pocket after this initial tasting. So my theory is this:
I smell like a dog biscuit, I taste like a dog biscuit, therefore I must be a biscuit.
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Ugh! I’m so glad, this story had a happy ending. A puppy being put down, simply because the owner got tired of it….that gets me angry in no time flat! I would have done the very same thing. And thank you, for giving this little guy a loving home ❤ ❤ ❤
Your writing style has such charm. With each post of yours I appreciate it more. Have a fantastic Sunday, Claudia
Thanks Claudia! Loads more doggy stories for you to find and hopefully enjoy.
You might like this
which must be followed by this
I’ll be sure to check them out, thanks a bunch 🙂
I get this. I must be a dog biscuit also.
ha! Dogs love us!!!
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