The Nose Knows (6 page)

Mom? Her first impression was obviously positive. Her female scent definitely jumped up a notch or two. Unfortunately, it then plummeted right after her eyes lingered on his left hand. He wore a wedding ring. After that, Mom cooled off. Her scent became neutral.

Luckily, critters don’t just use their eyes to seek answers. They use all their senses. You humans can see one particular thing and think it tells you the whole story. Example: Wedding ring means married man. End of story. To a critter what we see is just the beginning. This is where we have a huge advantage over you humans; we have “the nose.”

In Jacob’s case, “the nose” was telling me a lot. Sniffing his pant legs told me that if he was married, his wife had run out of fabric softener or else he’d done his own laundry. You men tend to forget the fabric softener and put in way too much detergent. Usually when I get an overdose of Tide up the nostrils it means a man did the laundry. Then there was the issue of his socks—they were not fresh. Dogs who live with single men have told me about some of you guys who wear the same socks for several days. In a word: ripe.

Don’t get me wrong, Jacob didn’t smell bad. A human would probably not detect any odor at all. To a critter it’s all about the smells. A good smell, a bad smell it doesn’t matter. The smells of this world tell us many things. The smells of Jacob were no exception.

The odors from the two different spills on his pants told me he had eaten fast food for the past two days. There was Kentucky Fried Chicken on the right (one of my personal favorites) and the sauce from a Big Mac on the left. Maybe his wife was just a bad cook or maybe she was never home to cook.

But the most intriguing smell of all was the one that was missing. There were no female smells on Jacob at all. Zilch. Nada. Even if she was away on a trip or hadn’t hugged him recently, there would still be some residual smells from a shared bed or couch. There were none of these on Jacob. I concluded that he and Quincy lived alone.

The nose had already told me things that had eluded Mom. The rest of the details were easy to obtain. I got them from Quincy.

As Mom and Jacob exchanged pleasantries with each other, Quincy and I shared all the dirt. Not just the dirt that we were frolicking in but the “real dirt.” It didn’t take long for me to know all the important basics about Quincy and his human, Jacob Langley. He was a good man and a good provider. His wife had divorced him two years ago. Quincy hadn’t liked the wife. She hit critters with a rolled-up newspaper and thought dogs should stay out of her house and off her furniture. In the end, she kept the house and all the furniture, and she told Jacob and Quincy to leave. Jacob rented a large apartment. Quincy liked it. Even though they didn’t have much furniture, Quincy could now lie on whatever he wanted. Jacob had two grown children who lived on their own. But, best of all, Jacob loved dogs.

How much more did I need to know? Well, there was one thing that still needed an answer. Why was Jacob still wearing his wedding ring? Quincy couldn’t answer that one. We’d seen humans take off their rings when they were no longer married. Even Mom had removed hers eventually. She’d worn it for years, but one day she said it was time to stop acting like a widow. She quietly removed it from her finger, kissed it, and lovingly tucked it away in her jewelry box.

We needed to know why Jacob still wanted people to think he was married. Waiting on Mom to get this one figured out might take too long. Besides, I could tell by her voice tone and her body language that she was friendly but guarded. My guess was she’d seen that band of gold, had drawn her conclusions, and that was all she wanted to know. Getting her to see things differently was going to take a little creative work on our part.

Quincy and I talked it over. He was up for the challenge. He’d already done his own smelling research on Mom and he liked what he’d learned. Besides, he thought that with someone like Mom around maybe his dinner might be on time for a change. More than that, we both knew our humans were lonely. They’d definitely benefit from a good frolic with one of their own kind.

So the four-legged critters put their heads together and devised a plan.

The first part was straightforward. We had to get them both to come to Puppy Park at the same time on a regular basis. Obviously, we don’t wear watches. How would we know when to get there?

That part was simple. Any observant human will tell you critters know something about time. Most of you think we only know when it is time to eat. This is untrue. We know when routine things are due to happen. We have internal clocks. For example, Fearless wakes up every day at the same time. He then wakes Mom up. But on Saturday and Sunday Mom sleeps longer. So does Fearless. He adjusts his internal clock to a different routine. He may not always choose to let on he knows, but he does. Me? I’m a lot older than Fearless. It doesn’t matter what day of the week it is, I always sleep as long as I possibly can.

For Quincy and me, knowing the time wasn’t the problem. Getting the humans to be in the same place at the same time was the challenge. Jacob liked to go to Puppy Park in the morning and Mom liked to go after dinner. Now that might seem like a huge hurdle, but we decided we could whittle it down to size. Our human companions are very responsible, so Quincy and I are both on a schedule. At my age, I need additional trips to the backyard, but at least three times a day Mom walks me—in the morning, then to Puppy Park after dinner and a quick walk before bed. Quincy had a similar schedule, except that his Puppy Park walk was in the morning.

We both knew what had to happen. One of us had to miss a meal. Given that Quincy was a lot younger than I was, he volunteered for the assignment.

That night Quincy didn’t eat his dinner. Jacob was a little worried, but Quincy acted playful and happy so Jacob didn’t call the vet. Without any dinner in his system, when Jacob took him to Puppy Park, the next morning, Quincy didn’t produce the desired results. Jacob had to go to work so he couldn’t spend all morning in the park waiting on Quincy to take care of business. But after dinner, as we’d hoped Jacob took Quincy back to Puppy Park for a good long romp. Jacob knew that would help work things out.

Bingo! We all ended up in Puppy Park at the same time.

The first night went fine. Now we needed to train Jacob to go to Puppy Park every night after dinner. It wouldn’t be fair or healthy for Quincy to continue missing his dinner. Labs love food way too much for that! It took a few clandestine meetings by the big oak tree for me to give Quincy a list of additional training techniques he could use on Jacob.

He tried them all.

The first one was what I called Tennis Ball Insanity. Like all true Labs, Quincy could chase a tennis ball forever. He’d learned there was a time and place for ball chasing, and it was not in the house. So on Day Two, he acted like he’d forgotten all he’d ever learned about the right and wrong time for tennis balls. Right after dinner, he pushed open the closet door and retrieved the tennis ball he’d hidden there. Then he slobbered it up pretty good. With his tongue hanging out and his tail wagging, he dropped the wet ball in Jacob’s lap.

Jacob dropped his newspaper and said, “Hey, what are you doing? Where did you find that? You know we don’t play ball in the house.” Apparently, some of his ex-wife’s rules had yet to be rewritten. Jacob put the ball on the side table. Quincy picked up the ball and again dropped it into Jacob’s lap.

“Okay, enough already. Quincy, you know the rule. No tennis balls in the house. Now go lie down.”

This time Jacob put the ball in his shirt pocket and went back to reading his paper. Quincy proceeded to follow my plan. He sat down next to the chair. He thumped his tail against the floor.
Thump, thump,
thump.
Then he administered one gentle lick to the back of Jacob’s hand. He sat back down again. He panted and thumped his tail. He repeated the whole procedure several times. The slight smile forming on Jacob’s face signaled it was time to initiate the next move. Quincy poked his head under the paper, put his nose under the ball, pushed up and popped it out of Jacob’s pocket. Then he administered one quick lick to Jacob’s nose.

The next few moments were critical. We knew Jacob could get angry. Quincy’s next move had to be executed perfectly. He and I rehearsed it several times. I knew he could nail it if he didn’t jump the gun.

Jacob slammed down the paper. “Hey, what is your problem?”

Quincy was prepared. He gave Jacob the look. It required the right blend of head tilt combined with a slight furrow of the brow to express confusion and a drop of his tail to show disappointment. The clock was ticking—Quincy held his breath.

Jacob laughed. “Okay, buddy I guess you really want to play some ball. Let’s go over to the park for a romp.”

Home run! Now the big finale! Quincy gave it his best closing act. Bouncing up and down, he added a whole lot of wagging and the biggest, floppy lip grin he could possibly muster. Pure joy doesn’t need a dress rehearsal. Quincy could handle this part all on his own. So once again, they headed to Puppy Park right on schedule.

The following day we let Jacob have it the old way and allowed him to go to Puppy Park in the morning. We didn’t want to be too obvious. Besides, we knew we could make the old routine work to our advantage. You didn’t think we’d waste a day, did you? Of course not. We let Jacob take Quincy to Puppy Park in the morning just like before. It was just the two of them. Quincy retrieved the tennis ball like he always did, but with a lot less vigor. After retrieving the ball, Quincy walked back to Jacob. But now he walked back very slowly. He then lay down at Jacob’s feet with the ball under his chin and looked up at Jacob with his big brown eyes.

“Hey, old boy what’s the matter with you this morning? You usually are bouncing all over the place.”

Quincy added the next behavior. Whenever another dog and their human headed toward them, Quincy would lift up his head and start to wag his tail. When they were close enough to clearly see them, you could almost hear Quincy sigh as he lowered his head back down.

After about ten minutes, the stage was ready. I made my grand entrance. Quincy wasn’t the only one assigned to manipulate his human. Today when Mom and I went for our usual morning walk, I sniffed my way closer and closer to the park. Mom didn’t want to go that way, but as long as I held my pee, I knew she wouldn’t take me home. On any given walk, I usually pee several times. Today, I hadn’t even peed once. I’m one of those females who likes to mark her territory like a male. Why should they have all the fun? The fact I hadn’t peed yet certainly had Mom’s attention. She was starting to worry.

We entered the park. As soon as we hit the grass, I pulled hard and yanked my leash out of her hand. I ran straight toward Quincy. He started barking and ran toward us. Jacob jumped up and chased Quincy. Mom was running to catch me. It didn’t take long before Quincy and I were doing doggie high fives and Mom and Jacob were struggling to catch their breath.

“I don’t know what happened,” Mom panted. “She pulled her leash out of my hand and took off. Guess she saw Quincy.”

“I guess so. Quincy was certainly acting all moody before Spunky got here. He kept looking for someone. It was almost as if he knew she was coming. Do you think he. . . . Oh, well, at least they’re having a good time.”

We made sure they had no question about that. We chased, rolled, and chased some more. What pair of dog lovers’ hearts wouldn’t warm at the sight of their two happy dogs with their tongues hanging out!

But you must excuse me a moment . . . I can’t keep my legs crossed any longer. I must go take of business!

M
ost of Mom’s patients were ordinary people. Some were depressed. Some were extremely anxious. Most all had something getting in the way of their being happy or not being able to live the life they wanted. Many of Mom’s cases followed a similar therapy schedule. Several weeks of intense work to get past a crisis, then less and less until they eventually no longer needed her help. Each of them was a different character who came into her life, visited for a while, and then left.

In many ways, they were like the dogs she rescued. Each one of them also had his or her own unique problem. For example, Tiny, the Bulldog, was afraid of women; Ms. Sally, the Pit Bull, had obviously been abused; and Yo-Yo, the Jack Russell, was way too hyperactive. Mom and I worked with each one differently, yet always with love and respect. Each one needed a different type of home, and all needed that one special person who would see the world through their eyes. They came, we helped, but then they were gone. It was the same with her patients. They came, we helped (or not), and then they were gone.

Comparing the two, I’d say the dogs had a greater impact. I think it was because their life energy actually came into the house with them. Their energy was palpable. When Mom put her hands on them she absorbed their energy.

On the other hand, Mom’s human patients were flat images on a screen. Their energy didn’t penetrate. The connection was incomplete. Perhaps it shielded Mom from getting too close. Maybe she felt safer that way.