Rolling in the Putrid

Putrid 5 thek9harperlee

All dogs love the putrid–even beautiful, sweet, obedient dogs like me. (Are you reading this, Mommy? Did I mention sweet?)

Monday morning began much like most of my mornings. My humans had to wake up early to get their week started, but I remained on my warm and cozy bed, enjoying just a little extra sleep. I finally arose, went outside, came back in, ate my breakfast, and settled in for the first of my morning naps. When I awoke, I went outside again to perform a perimeter search. I like to walk all around the exterior edge of my back yard so that I can sniff and determine what sort of wildlife has come to visit overnight. On this particular morning, I was in for a big treat.

My human mommy glanced outside and saw me rolling happily on the ground. Apparently she didn’t think much about it, because she let me continue to roll, and roll, and roll, and . . . you get the picture. Then when I ran to the door like a crazy dog, charged inside, grabbed as many toys as I could out of my toy basket, and started running wildly from room to room, she just thought I was happy about the cool weather. I was happy, alright, but not necessarily about the cool weather.

Morning Nap thek9harperlee

Exhausted from the excitement, I plopped down and fell asleep. And that’s when my mommy discovered it: something horribly putrid all over the side of my face and neck. Not just putrid, mind you, but horribly putrid . . . gag-inducing putrid. Suddenly I knew that perhaps rolling in what my human daddy would call “monkey dung” had not been my best idea ever. As luck (or the lack thereof) would have it, it was too cold outside for a full bath. So my mommy had to fill a container with hot water and shampoo and give me a mini-bath on the patio.

Oak Squigglies 1 the k9harperlee

And that’s where we ran into another problem. While our spring has been absolutely lovely–beautiful blue skies, young leaves appearing on the trees, and colorful blossoms all around–it has brought with it an abundance of “oak squigglies”–those little pollen-filled worm-looking things that fall from the oaks and attach to a Golden Retriever’s coat like something magnetic. The cleaner my head and neck became, the more covered with “oak squigglies” my body became.

Shame 1 thek9harperlee

My mommy and I have mixed feelings about “dog shaming”–the practice of taking pictures of guilty-looking pups with signs stating the horrible acts they’ve committed (eating large sums of paper money, attaching themselves to the legs of unsuspecting house guests, etc.)–but in this case, even I must admit that it’s appropriate. Sorry my canine instincts overcame me. Sorry I chose something so unusually, horribly putrid. Sorry I found such sheer delight in its presence on me. Sorry it covered my coat so completely and deeply that I ended up having to go to the groomer. I promise that I will not ever, ever, ever do that again.


21 Comments on “Rolling in the Putrid”

  1. Oh dear, I think we all know the feeling. Dogs seem to think it’s just the most wonderful, exotic perfume but us poor humans are the ones who have to clean it up. You’re right, just gag inducing stuff.

  2. It still baffles me how my goldie will find that tiny patch of mud in the massive park, then roll around in it with a look of absolute joy on her face. I almost don’t have the heart to stop her mid-act, because she loves being dirty so much 🙂

    • It’s our hunting instinct. My mommy cannot understand where I found that tiny patch of whatever it was I rolled in. She has looked and looked and looked for it. I’m not telling. 😉

  3. One of my sister’s neighbors has a couple of horses. One of my sister’s dogs LOVES to escape and go over there and roll around in the horse dung. It must have healing or beauty qualities because Lizzie just rolls and rolls and rolls in it. We should change her name to “Inga”. Wow, that sausage English muffin just went right on down this morning 😎

    • Oops. . . maybe I should have included a warning at the beginning of this post for anyone eating breakfast. 🙂 Your sister’s dog Lizzie should be called Lucky Lizzie–rolling in horse dung must be the very, very best. A dog could really completely cover herself with that!

  4. Jane says:

    I used to live at Toledo Bend and some of my best rolling washed up on the shores of our property!!! That and all the other wonderful stuff I found in the woods . . . Funny thing though, my dad always told me to ‘go see your mom’ when I came home. Guess she liked my fragrance better than he did !!!


  5. Ogee says:

    Mommy better hope that you don’t learn how to write your own signs in human, Miss Harper Lee. Payback is…well, you know!

    • BHL (that’s Before Harper Lee), Mommy had a friend who was taking her dog to the pet psychic because she wanted to know what the dog was thinking. My mommy said, “I would die if my dogs told another human what they were thinking!” It’s a good thing that canines understand confidentiality!

  6. finnhoward says:

    Aw, I love to romp in smelly stuff too! It’s natural! I don’t get it cause momma tries to yank me up by the collar when I do. What’s wrong with the humans of ours?

  7. evi says:

    😀 😀 you’re so hilarious miss harper lee, i love reading your dog adventures!

  8. Oh Miss Harper Lee, such short lived joy. You were living in the moment something us human mommies do not always understand. My Missy, who is a white dog used to like to roll in the mud at the doggie parks when she was a pup—yup she got a bath everytime she did that.


  9. Sherrell fick says:

    My lab Sammy rolled in a dead fish at the dog park. I had to drive to the nearest dog wash on the way home, gagging all the way. I think that was her worst roll ever!!!!’

  10. Auntie BAnn says:

    Miss Lee – I have to wonder how something sooo putrid landed in your backyard…hmmmm?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s