Eau d'Something Dead

Last night, after spending entirely too much at JoAnn's Fabrics, I was sitting on the couch watching DVR'd Real World (which is such an effing fiasco this season) when Nikki waltzed in, all "happy dog!" smelling like Eau d'Something Dead. She was so happy to see me, jumped up onto the couch, all "Pet me! Let's snuggle! Don't I smell fabulous?!"

I thought it was her anal glands (TMI? Ya?), all fired up and stinking to high heaven (which can be an issue with dogs -- Beagles need to have theirs "expressed" every so often because the breed is prone to anal gland impaction - lovely, right?), but then I noticed this muck on her formerly white furry chest. Going against all better judgment, I sniffed it and it resembled something like a dead fish.

First thing that came to mind: "The neighbors threw over a dead fish into our yard just to make our lives more miserable." I always think the best of people. Then I came back to reality and thought that was just a little too irrational and paranoid, and not to mention crazy. And I know what dog poop smells like - I've picked up enough of it in my day to know it's core essence, and that wasn't what she had rolled around in. The only thing left was Something Dead. Because it was already dark out, we weren't about to hunt around the yard to discover what this might be. I am thinking any of the following: (a) lizard (lots of things roaming around the area, for whatever reason Rusty loved to chew on those like jerky - yuck!), (2) field rat/rodent (Rusty killed one in the yard a year ago - it was kind of cute - it wasn't a nasty rat like you see in NYC, it was light gray with a white chest and rather large, so while I was happy to have free canine pest control, I felt bad for the furry bugger), or (3) gopher (which I suppose is in the "rodent" family and could be classified as item #2, but they're cute with their buck-toofers and deserve their own mention).

So, tonight she is getting a bath and tomorrow will be spent riping out all the over-grown stuff in the side yard. Over the past week or so, she has been obsessed with this area, traipsing through the plants and weeds, and it is likely whatever I smelled, is living (or not living) in that area. It needs to be tended to anyway.

And what a better way to spend your Friday night, than washing a disgustingly stinky dog? I can't think of anything else I wanted to do.


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