The Cookie Chronicles

Nostradamus was a 16th-century mystic whose predictions of the then-distant future are still quoted in some quarters. His detractors, on the other hand, say that his predictions are so vague they can be interpreted in any way you choose.

Cookie’s fortune-telling skills are quite the opposite. They are timely, specific, and generally spot-on. Which is why I like to think of her as Nostradamus. Her nose, when applied in this fashion, is irrefutable.

Her methodology is best observed when she is indoors. Whereas the outdoors offers a smorgasbord of scents, inside the home it’s possible for her sniffing to be much more focused. In fact, it’s room specific.

In the living room, while staring out the front window, she’s generally concerned with any passing cats or considering the whereabouts of Mr. B, who has an amazing ability to disappear. Asking “Cookie, where’s your ball?” will always provoke a reaction and, driven entirely by her nose, she will commit to finding him, whatever it takes. He may have rolled under a bookcase or the sofa, or sometimes she’s left him in her kennel and somehow forgotten about him. Wherever he’s landed, though he cannot be spotted visually, Nostrildamus will sniff him out.

While engaged on such an important mission there are potential distractions, such as the possibility of food. Our home is quite small, and the living room, dining room, and kitchen run into each other diagonally like three small cubes. All three rooms are visible from the best seat in the house, which happens to be on a super-size chair where Cookie spends her days.

If anything food-wise is going on in the kitchen, she’ll drop whatever she happens to be doing and trot in to see if by some chance she might be offered a snack. I should mention that unlike most dogs, who get fed daily at a regular time and hoover down their meal as soon as it’s put in front of them, Cookie’s bowl is always full of kibble, and she rarely touches it until the end of the day when all other prospects have been exhausted.

So, if any food-related activity is underway, she’s there and sniffing up a storm to see what might be cooking. If it’s something she already is familiar with, it’s all systems go as far as showing interest. If it’s less familiar, she will rely on her nose first and foremost to determine if it’s something worth sticking around for.

The ever-lengthening list of her food likes and dislikes does not entirely make sense, except for Cookie herself. Crunchy/salty stuff generally scores, unless there’s pepper involved. Sea salt potato chips? Bring ‘em on! Sea salt and pepper chips? Woof. Apple slices? Not so much – unless slathered with almond butter.

Good as they are, even kitchen smells are not her number one distraction. Bathroom activities are absolutely irresistible. Whether the focus is a sink, shower, or toilet, she’s on it, if not in it.

I’ll grant you that a bathroom may not seem to be the obvious choice for winning the dog smell-o-rama. It’s here where numerous cleaning products are kept, up to and including bleach, which even for dogs can’t be all that pleasant. It’s not the soap, the Oxi-Clean, or the Tidy Bowl that strikes such a harmonious olfactory chord. It’s what’s in the tidy bowl.

We humans can only probe the mind of dogs so far, and then we are left to ponder inscrutables. Why do dogs sniff each others’ nether regions with such delight? What is it about certain smells that rings their tiny little bells? We can never know.

After years spent observing the fascination that the bathroom holds for Cookie, I’ve found my dog-mind considering one of those imaginary dinners where you can choose to dine with any famous person from the past. And I’ve concluded that were I Cookie, the one person above all I’d invite would be Thomas Crapper. He was, as every schoolchild knows, the nineteenth-century inventor of numerous plumbing innovations such as the floating ballcock.

Mr. Crapper’s legacy lives on in so many things essential to our modern comforts. And he would no doubt be pleased to know that more than a century after his passing, his devices still bring great comfort to both humans and their canine companions.