You know how your home has certain unique smells that only exist in your home? Even when you go to other people’s houses, they, the houses that is, have a smell (And the people do too, I’m sure, I’m just trying to stay on topic). Usually it’s pleasant and if it happens to stink like cat piss, you just bite your tongue and pretend you have lost all sense of smell due to a sinus infection or something.
When I walked in the house the other day, I was hit with essence of dog and feet, not sure how else to describe it. Constant reminders of our often smelly dog and constant reminders of how I am the only female in my house, besides the stinky bitch I just mentioned.
And oh what joy when more scents are thrown into the mix. I do like the heavily scented candles so I’ll burn those every now and then, but then it’s more like dog, feet, and pumpkin spice. And when the cleaning ladies come, they’ve been using some sort of carpet freshener. I suppose they’re just trying their darndest to help get the dog odor funk out of the carpets. Good luck with that. The good smells last a little while, but it doesn’t take long before dog and feet, then joined by sweaty junior high boy and stale pizza take over once again.
And oh isn’t is quite the experience when you come home, sniff, and… What is that? When we first got our beloved rescue dog, Bama, of course an adjustment period was necessary. When she went outside, and how she alerted us that she needed to go outside to take care of her doggy business. Well, we didn’t know all these schedules and signs at the start. I came home with the boys one day and we walked in the door as usual, turned off the house alarm as usual. Stop. Nobody move. Something’s weird. I couldn’t see any evidence right away, but I knew Bama had dumped a load somewhere in the house. I told the boys to walk very carefully. We flipped on lights and sniffed and walked, and sniffed and walked. And then there it was. The vast majority on the front doormat, and a lone remnant that had sort of rolled under the dining room table. I didn’t see the under-the-table rogue dog turd at the start of the cleanup effort, so after I had rolled up and then pitched the whole doormat with the dog crap inside, I thought I was done. No wait. Sniff. Sniff. Something is still not right. There is still some missing something. Oh, found it!
Thankfully, that lovely gift from our newly adopted dog didn’t leave a lingering scent once it was all cleared out. But all the other aforementioned smells, and then some, tend to stick around. I suppose that’s because the odors’ sources never completely vacate the premises. Ahhh… and that’s what I call home!