Laundry day is Mick Jagger’s favorite day of the week. Why is that? Because like all dogs, his sense of smell is his keenest sense and there’s nothing he likes better than SMELLY smells.
As I pull sheets, towels and various articles of clothing from the laundry chute, I toss them in piles of lights and darks. Mick will happily snuffle around in the stack of dark tee shirts and jeans, but he knows the mother lode is in the pile of lights. Every time he’s able to sneak off for a quick gnaw on a pair of dirty underpants, you can just sense that he’s experiencing a little slice of doggie heaven.
My son was completely grossed out by Mick’s obsession, and perhaps even more so when he discovered that the pooch is equally devoted to boxers and faded granny panties. “Hey – crotch smells are crotch smells,” said Mick, “and I never smelled a crotch I didn’t like.”
That’s just a canine fact of life.
I have also seen Mick drop and roll ecstatically in the decaying remnants of a dead bird and run to the window to sniff appreciatively when a skunk let loose one evening somewhere nearby. Morning breath inspires kisses of devotion and walks are enjoyed most when there are plenty of other doggie and animal scents to discover along the way.
When I look at this adorable little guy with his silky, floppy ears and big brown eyes and comical bow-legged walk, you’d think he’d be into more pleasant scents, like flowers or fresh baked cookies (well, he is definitely interested in all food smells, that’s true). But, no. Mick is all dog. He doesn’t know he’s a cutie pie and he wants to roll in garbage and dig big wet, loamy holes in the garden and nibble on dead crickets and pee on mailbox posts like every other mutt in the neighborhood. I have to admit, knowing that makes me laugh and keeps me from giving into the misguided urge to buy him little doggie outfits and talk baby talk to him. I get it now, how some pet lovers cross that line. Very tempting.
So, the dryer just dinged – last load finished and ready to be folded. Mick has no interest in the basket full of clean, fresh clothes. But the next time he hears me opening up that little door to the laundry chute, you can bet he’ll run to my side, tongue hanging out and that big doggie grin on his face. The little stinker.