I was tidying up in the yard  earlier today, when I accidentally touched something that had come out of the compost heap. It was so rank there’s a chance it may have crawled out by itself… From the smell of it, it may have been something that originally lived in the ocean… a very long time ago…

It may have actually smelled clean and fresh and salty at some stage but, I can assure you, it does not smell so fresh any more. In fact, it was so bad that I almost threw up. Despite scrubbing repeatedly for the last 30 minutes with everything I can lay my hands on, I still have “odour de dead thing” on me.

I also have a constant companion- yep, the dog (who would ordinarily be snoring contentedly in his basket and dreaming about rabbits) has suddenly become my devoted shadow. I’ve scrubbed another three times and still he’s sitting there with his nose twitching and a string of saliva bungee jumping down from his jowls. He’s pretending he’s looking at a fly on the windowsill but I’m not fooled. His nose keeps twitching and he keeps sniffing loudly- like he does when there’s a roast in the oven.

What is it with dogs and stench? How can a creature that is supposed to be so sensitive with its olfactory organ actually enjoy sticking its nose into a hideous heaving pile of “gross” and go “Yippee!! Woo hoo!” like a five-year-old on Christmas morning.

What drives a newly washed dog to seek out the nearest pile of fresh, green sheep poop or a squashed sleepy lizard, roll in it joyously then leap up all refreshed and go “Aahh. That’s better!”

Likewise a dog could sniff any part of another dog when they meet on the street-but they always had straight toward the back end of each other and inhale as rapturously as a busload of Nannas in a Rose Garden. (Yes, I know it’s all about scent glands and territory marking but it still weird…)

Anyway, just wanted to let you know that today I’m glad I’m not a dog.

Now excuse me, I’m off to take a bath in disinfectant…