I arrived home tonight from my traditional, weekly, buying trip in Sydney's CBD - and it was one of those rare nights when there was nothing on my want list at Galaxy Bookshop or HMV - and the shipment hadn't turned up at Kings Comics, so I came home empty-handed.
Jack was let out into the yard for mere seconds (to do those doggy things that need to be done) and then as I entered the hallway, I could smell... poo. Really stinky poo. But not necessarily dog poo. This was... like something had died - but perhaps while covered in poo.
I checked my shoes, but they were fine. The smell was extremely intense in the hall, but not all the time. I picked up several items, expecting to find something unpleasant, but no. Whenever the smell returned, it was very intense but, then, it vanished again.
Maybe it was coming from the air-conditioning duct? Was there a dead animal up there? No. The smell wasn't in the bedroom, or the spare room, or anywhere else. Then, suddenly, it was in the bedroom.
Ah, it was Jack himself! He was covered, up both sides of the neck, in cat poo! Somehow he'd manage to find and roll in it, in the few seconds he was out the back after my arrival home. It's the Jack Russell way: smell like your prey! And no wonder the smell kept moving; the more Jack tried to help me find the source of the revolting smell, the more he was wafting it around in all the places I was inspecting. (The house does have a resident ghost, you know, but she smells of fish, and she's been here longer than the dog, so I knew it wasn't one of her irregular visitations.)
Jack has now had a semi-bath (at 10pm), been doused in aromatic incense water, and had 20-year-old Avon talc rubbed into his fur (I hope he's not allergic to people talc). But he still smells worse than a cat's litter tray.
Almost as bad as the day he rolled in goose poo on a friend's relative's farm, and turned himself into an intensely-green Jack Russell terrier with absolutely no friends whatsoever.
Be grateful this blogspot has no Smell-o-Vision facility. Thanks, Jacko. Thanks for, ugh, sharing.