Chapter Ten-The Nose Knows

In my daily work as a wine reviewer, I pay particularly close attention to the scents of a wine and the finish of the wine. The better the heads and tails, front and back if you will, the better the wine. And I’ve noticed that there’s an analogy in the dog world. The nose of the dog, and the tail of the dog, gather and relay essential information about the mind of the dog.

We’ll look at the tail in a future chronicle. The nose, for most dogs (and I feel really bad for short-nosed pups like pugs—cute as they are, they’re missing a vital organ!) is their primary means of exploring and analyzing their surroundings. The olfactory sense (the old smell factory I like to call it) is reportedly at least 1000 times more sensitive in dogs than in humans.

Think about how your average snack must smell to a dog, amped up a thousand-fold! Not to mention other, less savory aromas.

Scientific analysis has found that dogs’ nasal cavities have 220 million receptors, something like 50 times more than the average human. And certain exceptional dogs, such as bloodhounds and beagles, are especially blessed in the schnozz department. Let’s call them the stars of Deep Nose. They can sniff out drugs and bombs, pick out certain diseases, and of course turn their smell abilities into spectacular tracking skills.

For a more average mutt such as Cookie, who has what I’d say is a very fine snout, the functioning of her highly skilled smell-o-vision is just as valuable, though not necessarily put to such practical use. She can instantly identify specific humans and other animals, sense fear and other emotions, identify recent meals and activities from a bit of clothing and track Mr. B simply by the scent of his bounces on flights through the garden.

For us scent-challenged humans the weave of aromas that tickle Cookie’s interest when she’s outdoors is impossible to fully grasp. But watching her give full concentration as she quickly sniffs the air makes it clear she’s following a thousand different threads: food smells, plant smells, animal smells, machine smells, clothing smells, human smells, all tied together and requiring her to untangle, analyze and make decisions about each of them.

Those are not always good decisions.

To anyone who has ever owned a dog, it’s clear that the dog’s idea of what constitutes a good smell or a bad smell has nothing to do with our own, especially when it comes to bodily waste and other secretions. The funkier the better seems to be the operative concept for canines.

Despite being confined to her yard, Cookie has plenty of ground to explore, and an ongoing parade of wildlife visitors to investigate. Which leads directly to the one activity for which she will always get a scolding—rolling!

She will seek out and find any scrap of fecal material, no matter how small, that has been deposited by another animal, be it dog, cat, raccoon, possum, squirrel, mouse or bird. And she will roll in it. For whatever reason, it doesn’t seem to make a difference whose poop it is, she gleefully applies it as if it were fine perfume. And once she’s returned happily to the company of her humans, Mrs. G, who has the best human nose in the family, will throw her head back in horror, scrunch up her face and, glaring at the unfortunate Cookie declare “YOU ROLLED!”

To her credit, Cookie never denies having rolled, nor does she defend it. She probably thinks to herself, yeah I rolled, and don’t I smell wonderful? But the hangdog look on her face is anything but nonchalant, and she pretty much knows what’s next.

Bath time.

Depending upon how much and where the offending ‘perfume’ has been applied, she might escape with a quick sponging off. But most often it’s into the shower for the full deal meal. And perhaps one reason that Cookie has yet to make the connection between the enthusiastic roll and the subsequent shower, is that she really doesn’t hate getting cleaned. Even the blow dryer is OK, and she comes out clean and fluffy and smelling like a rose.

In fact, we like to say “Fluffy is back!” right after her bath, and there’s usually a treat or two as compensation. In her mind, she might not smell quite as good as possum poo, but a happy home is worth the sacrifice.