Wet dog smell.
Can’t say it’s my favorite. I much prefer the smell of baking bread,or lemon tree blossoms. However, when Smokey (twenty-one pounds of cuteness wrapped up in the sweetest little miniature schnauzer suit you’ve ever seen) acts like a dog, he smells like a dog. I, on the other hand, am human and prefer the afore mentioned fragrances over his canine preferences.
It’s a routine we go through. He finds the most vile smell in the yard and takes utter delight to lean hard into, wallow in it, and embed it in every pore of his doggie body.
When I get a whiff of him and call attention to the odor problem I suggest the “B” word. He never seems to agree with my choice of smells or remedy to the smell. If he even suspects the “B” word or hears water running, the hiding and cowering begin.
My husband picks him up to bring him to the laundry tub (dog bath) and declares that Smokey somehow can double his weight at will, or he might might have invented some sort of gravitational field that he can activate at will. Regardless, he is reluctantly (very reluctantly) compliant.
At this point, wet dog smell is better than dirty dog smell so, the soap and water do their work. Wash and rinse, wash and rinse, then to the dryer (electric space heater-not tumble!).
While he dries and gets the spa treatment, he lets me brush his teeth, trim his nails, clean his ears, and trim his hair. I have never seen a dog grow hair as much as he does. It grows at least a quarter inch every week all over, top bottom, in the ears, under the tail (or “hatch” as we call it), between his toes, well, you get the picture. By this time he is pretty relaxed, and sometimes wakes himself up with a snort, and looks at me to see if I caught him. Of course I don’t want to humiliate him, so I pretend I hear nothing.
When we are finished, he looks quite presentable, feels like a downy pillow, and smells like, well, I guess he still smells like a dog, but much better than before the bath and acceptable enough to share the house with us.
When Smokey is clean, he is allowed to join us in the house, and alongside me on his towel, on our couch. It is a spot I reserve just for him.
In my Father’s world, I am loved even more than we love Smokey. The problem is that like Smokey, I am dirty. I am human and guilty of human things (sin) and My Father is perfectly sinless. His house will not be tarnished with my sin dirt. In spite of my filthy and stinky condition, He loved me enough to provide a means by which I can be a pleasing aroma to Him and come into His presence. After all, He is preparing a place for me.
“If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous, so that He will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” 1 John 1:9
Father, How I thank you
for providing a remedy for the stench of my sins.
My desire is to ever be
a pleasing aroma in Your sight.
In Jesus’ name,
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