Sweet scents

Summer is sweet. Flowers bloom on trees, shrubs and perennials in my Person's yard. Nectar flows and is lapped hungrily by that wise guy hummingbird and its fellows. So many kinds of bees - giant bumbles and all sorts of medium and teeny tiny ones - visit different flowers according to their body size to gather pollen. There are young birds trying their voices out and their parents' patience as well, hungrier than I could ever be.

The earth is humid and rich with smells. I found a wonderful new smell at the beach: aged carp. I told the flies to move on over and I rolled on that fish and bulldozed my neck across the silvery scales and spread that perfume deep into my fur. How appropriate for a day when the next scheduled activity was a visit to my favorite outdoor fish restaurant!

Until my Person got a hold of me. "Stop that," she roared ferociously. Then she started sniffing me. "Good," I thought, "she's acting more like a dog, a step toward wisdom finally. She'll appreciate me now." But oh no. She sniffed and her nose wrinkled up and she intoned the words I hate but so rarely hear: "You are going to need a bath."

And off we went to the sweet-smelling backyard and she hosed me down and washed me! I smelled like a fish that had been shampooed. So she washed me again! It was awful. But it was that or stay home from the restaurant and sleep in the backyard until I smelled more like a little red dog than a little dead fish.

I got my reward - lots of snacks and even more attention from the other restaurant patrons. I am glad they were smiling and petting me instead of wrinkling their noses and staying far away from me.

If it is true that a rose is a rose, then it follows that a fish is a fish. But when it comes to going out for dinner it is better for a dog to be more like a rose and less like a fish.