Sweetie, You Stink

"Your breath smells," she said, while quickly looking away in disgust. 

Despite turning her head in the other direction, she could still feel the hot, heavy air hitting her cheeks.  She stretched farther away, feeling the tendons pull tightly in her neck- and yet it still lingered heavy in the air like a post-nuclear attack-

She could not escape it.

And in that moment, as she grimaced through the pain of the horrible smell that poured over her, she looked back at the panting dog and saw two eyes that were saying, "I Love You."

 I missed you this weekend, sweet Penny.

Has it already been a year since we met on that darkly lit road?

It has.

In that year I have come to love you, to laugh at you, to scowl under my breath at you.

You are our dog, aren't you?

Or perhaps we are yours.  It would certainly seem so, anyway.

You are an old girl- about 11 Dr. Park says. 

You are almost blind these days, old girl, and sometimes as you race for the back door, you trickle urine on the carpet.   I yell "PENNY!", as though it will somehow allow us to go back in time just a few seconds and you will be able to hold it long enough to make it to the grass.

And as I yell you will sometimes turn your head for just a moment as if to say "HI!" in response, completely unaware that I will now have to scrub the smell of your bladder away from my carpet.

And after you pee on the grass, head back inside and I say "bad girl" in my most stern voice you will wag your tail, loving that for that small space of time you and I are both on the floor, eye to eye.

You wait for your treat.  The treat I generally give you after you have been a "good girl" and gone pee outside.

And in your old age I am not even sure you are aware you trickled.  And in my lack of stern-ness I will open the fridge and open a piece of string cheese.  I will pull a small part off the top for you, and I will eat the rest.

These days, since I can't bend down, I have to toss you the cheese.  You don't always see the cheese that I've just tossed, blind girl.  I will tell you that it's "right there Penny", as you wag your tail waiting for the big toss.  I will give it a moment, certain you will smell the cheese that is literally 'RIGHT THERE' under your nose but it's possible that your rapidly wagging tail is wafting the smell away from you.

And I will have to pretend I am throwing the cheese again so that you will scan the floor once more.  And when this doesn't work, the baby belly and I must bend like a girl in a music video with their big ol' booty pointed toward the sky and pick up the cheese and put it in front of your nose.

You wear me out, Penny.

And then there are the days when we cuddle close together. 

I am not sure why some days you stink and other days your don't.  But on way too many occasions as you sit near you will stare into my face, lovingly, with your eyes half-closed and breathe...

Heavily.

And I have taken you to the groomers to get your teeth cleaned....  I bought that blue stuff from Petsmart that you add to water to freshen up that gumline...  I tried switching your food...

But at your age, sweetie, I guess you just stink.

What's odd is that, despite your oft-putrid strench, the trickling, and other occasional 'souvenirs' you like to leave around the house,

I love you.

So much.

I spent the weekend away, soaking up the beautiful spring Vegas weather and on too many occasions I thought of my kids.  You know, the 4 cats and you.

It was a year ago we picked up a half-dead dog from the road.  I should have known then and there when you poo'd on our first meeting that you were gonna' be one stinky under-taking.

But the unknowns are the best part, aren't they? 

Who could have known we'd love you so much?

Who knows on any given day whether you will be super-stinky or just semi-stinky?

Maybe you know..... and just aren't telling us.