Our dogs live through their noses, which is old news. What’s interesting is how important the smell of my dogs is to me. Like humans, each of them has their own distinctive scent, and I revel in it as I put my face into their fur and hug them.
Their smells also tell me a lot about how they’re doing: a sick dog smells sick, somehow, and an anxious dog puts out a bitter kind of smell. If the dogs start vomiting or have diarrhea, I won’t worry too much if they smell normal; if the dog smells bad or off, I call the vet.
Strange that despite the fact that each dog smells different, there’s a universal smell of wet dog that’s the same no matter which canine is wet!
It’s also interesting that I can’t call a dog’s smell to mind, in the way that I can recall how a picture looks or the way a soft blanket feels. Is my imagination scent-impaired? I wish I could bottle the smell of each of my dogs. Because when they’re gone, I can’t ever smell them again.