Scent Memory

It's funny my friend talks about Siddy's smell in her tribute below.  Siddy had a strong doggy musk, which I never found objectionable, and often found frankly pleasant.  She could be pretty funky, sure, but the general essence of Sid-scent seemed to me warm and sometimes sweet.

The secret was her puppy head.

Some years ago, when my aunt (who ADORED Siddy, come to think of it, and is perhaps right now greeting her joyously along with my dad) was in the hospital, we had family all over town, and one of my cousins came to stay with me, with her daughter and her boyfriend, M.  M and I had bonded over his own dog before, and he is a dog lover.  He was hanging with Sid in the kitchen one day, and asked me if I was aware my dog's head smelled like a puppy.

It totally did.  Calling her pup-head wasn't just to be cute, it was in grateful remembrance of someone who pointed out this magical thing about her, which I had never quite quantified myself.

Siddy's puppy scent is something between baby-sweet and doggy-warm, and I have only half secretly drunk in her puppy-headed smell for all these years.  Somewhere between baby powder and animal-corn-chip smell.  Something clean, but not soapy, something very animal, but not dirty.  The soft, muscular sweep from her eyes to her ears - where once she had a black mask, the husky markings of her youth.  That meaty, warm, smooth spot was such a great place to just put your head next to Sid's, to love up on her, to kiss her maybe, to bonk heads maybe.  I also loved the meaty white quadrangle where her fur came together in four corners, at her chest, that soft and deep-chested spot, the bottom of the loose, luxuriant ruff of loose skin and fur at her neck, the top of her beautiful front legs.  Her chest was so white.  Thick, nice.  Reassuring.

I once had a cat - great *couch* of a creature, a big orange tom - who always smelled like baby powder.  Like, seriously, that sweet.  Considering the general state of his breath, and the habit he had of self-cleaning with the tongue he kept in that mouth, I never could fathom the mystery of his sweet smell, but he was wonderful for just scooping up and sniffling.

I wonder if my pets get into my beauty products, or something, when I am not looking.  Or do I just have the Weirding Way, and manage to always pick the sweet-scented beasties?  Hmmm.

RIP, pup-head.  I miss you already, girl.