If Hershey was going to star in a Lifetime movie of the week, it would be about a little dog, teased and taunted and shunned by all of her friends because she was the only one with no sense of smell. But her plucky nature would save the day in the end in some heart tugging way and everyone would accept her for who she is. Because really, for a dog, Hershey doesn’t seem to have a keen sense of smell at all.
It was my understanding that all dogs had incredible noses, and that Labs were often used as drug sniffing dogs. Trust me, the DEA will not be calling on Hershey to root out drugs at the airport. I expected Hershey to come running any time we dropped food on the floor in the kitchen, and lap it up. On the occasions that we have, I have to call her in and tap the floor next to where the food is or she won’t find it. The other night I took her out before bed and when we came back in, I tossed her treat on the floor for her to find. No luck. I had to turn on the light and guide her to it after a few minutes. What the heck, dog? Shouldn’t you be able to find it by smell?
Then yesterday, we went outside and I immediately saw two ducks in our pond. But Hershey didn’t. She just poked around in the grass and the ducks ignored her because they probably knew she failed olfactory class and wouldn’t come to bother them. Shouldn’t she have immediately detected delectable wildlife in the yard and gone running in their direction?
I don’t know what a sense of impaired smell is officially called, but I think Hershey has it. (That might explain why she eats poop. Perhaps she can’t smell how, well, smelly it is.)
But what she lacks in the scent department she makes up for in sight. She watches my hands like a hawk for any sign of a treat. Any time I reach in my pocket, she’s by my side, convinced I’ve got a little something for her. I think this stems from our early days of potty training when I gave her a treat every time she went. And those treats were stashed in my coat pocket. She’s always watching my hands, and that has been somewhat helpful in trying to teach her a few commands. When she jumps up on the couch (insert big sigh here) I say “down” and point two fingers down to the ground. Sometimes it works, and she usually comes running over to me. Probably for a treat. But, I see her watching my hands when I do this.
Now I’m not complaining about her lackluster sniffing skills, I’m just surprised, is all. And on the bright side, maybe that means she won’t be inclined to sniff other dogs’ butts. And I suppose I should be lucky that I have a dog that can’t really smell—instead of one that’s smelly.
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Have you missed any of the articles in this series?
If so, you can find them at:
The Bringing Up Puppy Series page.
Related posts:
- Bringing Up Puppy Series – The Worst Lab
- Bringing Up Puppy Series – Holding Tight
- Bringing Up Puppy Series – Who is the Boss?
- Bringing Up Puppy Series – Fairy Dog Mother – Part 2
- Bringing Up Puppy Series – Hello Stranger
