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Scented Air


A Dog's Scented Air.

By Ann Nguyen 



Recently, I had the opportunity to babysit my aunt’s dog for a week, and as with most dog you have to walk them twice a day. If you don’t, they do their business in your home and you definitely don’t want that.

Claiming this tree, this rock, this street light.

So one morning, I took him out for a walk and every few feet he would excitingly mark his territories. For people who don’t own dog, dogs mark their territories by releasing a yellow liquid onto trees, grasses, poles, yards, and almost anything that they like to claim. Well after about a block, the poor puppy ran out of liquid to mark, yet this did not stop him. Every few feet he would continue to raise his leg and mark the poles as if he was still shooting out liquid.

The innocent of doggy youth.

I chuckled and smiled at him. Sweeties, you know you’re out of juices, right? He stick out his tongue and barked. I grinned. Well, are we done then?  He barked again, wagging his tail. Hey! where are we going I shouted as he dragged me across the street to another street pole. I guess he wasn't ready to go back. After carefully sniffing the pole, he raises his leg and mark what is his. I laughed. Darn it if it's ain't cute for a puppy to be so demanding. It's his. He needs it. He wants it.

The air of dog.

What are you doing? You’re just shooting out air. He looked at me and barked.  Yah, but it's scented air! he seemed to say.  I laughed again. How long do I have to wait until you ran of scenic air too, I said, giving him a serious look. He ignored me and sniffed down another trail on the hunt for something exciting to claim. For anyone who own pets, it's common thing to talk to their animals as if they understand, so don't think I'm crazy and stop reading.

One stop sign, two trees, and three poles later,

Mr. Pom-pom finally ran out of scented air too, but the walk was not over yet. He was too excited to go home. Another block later, I put down my foot. Sweeties, you have freshen every poles and trees within three blocks radius.  I don't even think you have air to scent. You're just going through the motions. It's time to go home. After a pause, he barked as if agreeing. I swear, I think he understand every words I said. Just as we were heading back, we saw another dog sniffing around the pole he had just scented. 

Mine! Mine! Mine!

Suddenly, a tongue lashing of “Awf! Awf, AWWF!” came rushing of Pom pom's mouth. Translation? Get away from my scented air! That's  my tree, my pole, agrrrrr, he growled. I restrained him with the leash. The other dog was three time his size. That didn't seemed to matter to Mr. Pom-pom, a small white poodle who think he’s a pit bull. No! I nagged. Stop! he's three times your size,  I shouted, dragging him away. He barked as if to say, yah but I can take him. I shook my head. The other dog didn't say a word, in a barking sense. He just seemed confused as if to say, why is this guy so mad at me?

The morning ended with Pom-Pom completely dry of water and air, and me completely thirsty watching him getting dry up.

***In memory of Pom Pom, a dog I got an opportunity to love for a short while. I miss him so, I hope if there's a doggy heaven that it is nice for him. :-( ***




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