A few years ago, I wrote a column about the sweetest smells on earth and it just happened that they all came from the farm; freshly plowed soil, newly mowed hay and cow manure on sale day. Well, a lady approached me after a recent speaking engagement and accused me of being biased toward farming and asked if I had any favorite odors that were not farm oriented. As it just so happens, I do have two more.
I’ll have to admit a borderline addiction to the smell of a new automobile. I absolutely love it and only wish that when you purchase an air freshener labeled ‘new car scent,’ it actually smelled like a new car. It doesn’t. The other one is the aroma emanating from the breath of a new puppy. It doesn’t matter whether it rolls across the tongue of an expensive registered poodle or through the crooked teeth of the ugliest cur mutt in three states; the smell is sweet and innocent. I’ve gotten to enjoy both during the past few months.
Last winter, I finally bit the bullet and traded in my old farm truck for a new model. I stepped down from a one-ton dually diesel to a 3/4 ton, regular-wheeled, gas powered truck. I rationalized that I don’t pull the trailer to cattle shows every weekend anymore so I don’t need the added expense of all those extras. As a surprising bonus, the new-car smell that usually lasts just a couple of months has stayed with this new truck a lot longer.
Judy and I had been without a dog since an unfortunate and fatal accident took the life of our last Australian Shepherd last year. Each of our last two dogs were registered Aussies that were loyal, lovable and fairly expensive to purchase. Grizz was a good cow dog and really earned his keep around the farm. He was my best buddy and went with me every time the truck or ATV started. After his passing, I bought Lucy and she left us just as she was growing out of the puppy stage and showing some real promise as a cow dog in her own right. I was convinced that I was just not meant to have a good cow dog, so I really was just looking for a good pet and companion when an ad caught my attention. “Need good home for 10-week old, lovable, Aussie-cross puppy. $10 rehoming fee.”
I had no idea what a ‘rehoming’ fee meant, but it was within my budget and the address was only about 8 miles from the farm, so my wife and I loaded up and took off. The puppy was a female who was half Australian Shepherd and half Bernese Mountain Dog. Judy loved her immediately so I found out what ‘rehoming’ means, paid the lady and headed home.
Bernie is what we named her and, among other positive attributes, she had the sweetest smelling breath of any puppy I had ever held. The three of us bonded immediately.
Last week, I loaded her in the cab of my new truck and we headed off to my veterinarian’s office to get her puppy shots, dewormed and poured for fleas and ticks. Bernie was nervous at the travel, but she snuggled up close to me and worked her magic by blowing that wonderful breath of hers straight toward my awaiting nostrils. New-car smell and puppy’s breath in the same confined area. Heaven.
Bernie didn’t appreciate the shots at her doctor’s office so she was more than ready to jump back in the truck and head toward home. The shots had not set well with the little puppy as she was much more subdued on the way home, curled up in the passenger’s seat as I stroked her head and tried to assure her that we were almost home. Then, about a mile from the house, Bernie jumped up, wheeled her head toward me, and spewed out everything in her stomach, like a fireman’s hose, onto the crevice dividing the two seats where it slowly oozed down onto the carpeting of the new truck.
That new-car smell is gone.
So is the puppy’s breath.
Jerry Crownover is a farmer and former professor of Agriculture Education at Missouri State University. He is a native of Baxter County, Arkansas, and an author and professional speaker. To contact Jerry about his books, or to arrange speaking engagements, you may contact him by calling 1-866-532-1960 or visiting ozarksfn.com and clicking on ’Contact Us.’
