Monday, monday

My house smelled, and not like freshly baked bread or apple pie. Every morning when I came downstairs I was slapped in the face by dawg. If I somehow took a sharp blow to the head over night and managed to forget I had a dog, I would be reminded as soon as I went downstairs.

You know the smell. In a perfect world, when you come into my house I would hope that you would not know I had pets at all, until they come bounding at you and knock you down, Surprise! I have a dog! and a cat! Wanna guess where he's box is?!  There is a lot to enjoy about your dog. They are attractive to look at, they are very good burglar alarms, and they have nice, soft fur. Many of your senses are pleased by your dog. Very rarely is your sense of smell pleased by your dog.

My sense of smell was not only “not pleased” it was deeply offended. The only upside of this was if by chance Dogger and I were out of the house and a burglar took it upon himself, and I use the masculine because I have never heard of a woman who was a house burglar, frankly, sure we’ll kill our own young but we aren’t going to steal your flat screen - to break in, one whiff and he would have known immediately that there was dog in the house and it would be coming for him soon, or he had come across the worlds best appointed bear cave - Whatever, something very large and carnivorous and no doubt angry at being disturbed would be along quickly and it was would be looking to tear out his throat and gut him. A smart burglar would leave at this point. And the fact that no pawn broker would buy anything that smelled that bad.

The house was dawgy and had been. Last weekend I was out of town and didn’t get anything done around the house. This weekend I was in town it was time. Okay, one more day and I was going to have to rake the carpets. In the summer I keep the house dark and even in the dark the house looked bad.

So. I vacuumed or swept all the flat surfaces and then laundering everything the dog touches. Sadly, the biggest offender, a large chair and ottoman that Dogger doesn’t know that I know she spends a lot of time on in my absence - that would do well with a good through wash cycle, was too large for the machine. Everything else, house-wide I swept, vacuumed or spot cleaned and I felt pretty good about what I had accomplished, the house smelled like, well, nothing.

.....Until I walked downstairs Saturday morning and my eyes watered. I had forgotten the real offender. I didn’t have a chance to do anything about it on Saturday but Sunday? afternoon, we were on. Dogger didn’t know what to think It’s still light out! I haven’t had dinner! No, no, no! Bath time is night time! Come on! I told her to come on and she had a good bath. Sunday prior to bathtime, I went to Petco and splurged on a $10 anti-itch doggy shampoo to help her out with her recurrent summer itchiness/hot-spot problems. I buy my own shampoo at Poverty Barn for $3 a bottle.

The house now smells  like medicinal dog shampoo, but it doesn’t smell like dawg.