Dog STANK!

It’s a smell that stings the most inner parts of your nostrils.  Not just a stink, but a torture.  Painful and persistent.  Deep and determined. 

While sitting around my mother-in-law’s living room with some family members last weekend, I battled through rounds of aerial assaults delivered effortlessly by the canines under my feet.  It was a calm and relaxing Saturday night and I was watching the Nuggets get hammered (AGAIN!) and sipping my beverage of choice.  Sprawled out on the floor was about 37 feet and 300 lbs worth of dog.  One, a Saint Bernard with a wonderful demeanor and “unintentional” delivery of the kind of stench that makes your pancreas quiver.  The other, a wonderful Great Dane with charm, patience and ppffttt (sound it out…). 

The two creatures lay along side one another and catch some zzz’s as a room full of family sits, chats and enjoys the evening.  Then, out of nowhere and with incredible force, an invisible haze starts taking out the family members sitting in the room.   The stench first immobilizes the youngest… picking on his still developing sense of danger and defense.  The teen now finding himself engulfed in the dog stank that isn’t kind and doesn’t hold back.  The poor kid, without the proper defense techniques and strategies, succumbs to the attack and falls from the chair – gasping for relief.  Then the floating fumes tackles another. Still carrying the force of an erupting volcano, the nasty attacks victim number two.  This time, my brother-in-law fought back.  He started blowing with all of his might…. His aim directly and the “firing zone” of the animal and hoping to overpower the spreading of the smell.  Failure.  My brother-in-law almost passed out from the huffing and puffing.  Still, I applaud his efforts to protect the family.

Weary and stumbling, my brother opens the window as we invite the spring temperature of 33 degrees (and snow) in from the outside.  Please – Something HELP!!!!  The chill of the air helps for a bit.  There is almost enough time to regain clear vision and for my ears to stop ringing… then whamo – another hit.  This one rattles me to the core.  I think I throw up a little in my mouth and I can now feel the hair on my body starting to melt.  I’m sure this one was the Saint Bernard as he now sleeps with what appears to be a smirk on his face.  Like he knows the pain he is causing.  His size intimidating, 170 lbs of pure dog food recycling.  I learned that his flavor was Chicken and rice…  I think that combination for dog food should be outlawed. 

The final relief only arrived at bed time when the family scattered like a group of people at a Pee Wee Herman sighting.  To bed we would hustle, first stopping to wash off what felt like layers of YUCK from the skin exposed to these smelly creatures and to brush teeth that felt like they were fuzzy.  Jump in the sack, hide under the covers and say a prayer that the stink machines relocate to another room.  We are simply no challenge for the tang that exists the canine.  We give – we surrender – we might still have a little vomit in our mouths.

Dogs 1 - Humans 0