Some of you might have noticed my recent absence. If you did, then I guess this ties in nicely with this week’s topic. Why dogs disappear. One minute you’re outside hiking with your pooch. The next nanosecond they’re gone. Frantically, you spin your cranium around and around, like some lighthouse beacon, searching for your mutt while uttering under your breath unrealistic desires to kill them once they’re found. Ever wonder about this fantastic canine cloaking phenomenon?
I can tell you my recent blogging hiatus wasn’t a quick peek into some wormhole in search of my usual traveling companion, Crazy Albert. Nope, Herr Albert’s right here playing shuffleboard with his photons. And my disappearance was just an illusion. You see, I was cloaked just like the dog you were frantically searching to find. Then “poof” we’re back, wagging our tails despite the admonishments you feel compelled to slather upon us. While you might be inclined to chalk up our disappearance to some obstruction that blocked your visual connection, the reality is: we canines are blessed with a cloaking device far superior to those ever employed by either Hans Solo or Captain Kirk.
So what’s our secret? Well, a while ago I helped the Big Guy write a book. In it, we talked about this very subject. I don’t think he’d mind too much if I shared a little bit of it with you folks. Here goes…..
…..One of the special qualities that make canines so utterly unique is our ability to take ordinary hair protein and transform it into one of the wonders of the cosmos. Our secret formula is poop mousse. Pretty much any poop will do. Our default mousse is usually compiled by our equine pals but to achieve the magical hair properties that defy the laws of science, a good shellac of wild animal poop mousse will do nicely. When I really wanted to make a lasting impression on our alpha leader I would apply my secret formula just before we were due to jump into the truck. This was particularly true when there were neither towels nor water to clean either one of us. My antics actually were my secret method of manipulating the Big Guy into transporting me to the nearest body of water for a bout of swimming. My mousse poop conditioner worked every time.
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| Near Fatal Shampooing |
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| Re-booting My Canine Superpowers |
I’d have to admit that with all of our canine super powers we have a vulnerable weakness that two-legged pack members employ regularly with kryptonite effectiveness. Commonly it’s referred to as soap.
There were times when I had labored an entire afternoon, embedding every pore of my skin with the pungent fragrance of nature’s dung, only to become hosed then lathered with some kind of peach or rose smelling shampoo. Like Superman, I would be helplessly immobilized by fruit reeking suds. Both wet and bedraggled all my secret manipulation attributes would be disempowered by a smelly container of cleansing stuff.
As with any good comic book super hero, eventually the sudsy power draining poison would be hosed off. Instantly, my strength would begin to return. I would compress my internal forces and vibrate from head to tail with such oscillating ferocity as to rid myself of any remaining shampoo. Usually my shaking efforts not only succeeded in my throwing off any remainder of the smell-good bondage but it also had the effect in driving any two-legged pack members scurrying for cover. The towel massage thing was also helpful in neutralizing the abhorrent, crippling effect of petal bouquets.
When I generated moaning sounds during the toweling ritual this was always an indicator my supernatural powers were rapidly returning. Usually when they’d tire of drying my coat I’d trot over to the nearest lawn or exposed dirt and drop ‘n roll in an effort to reboot my dog smell. Convinced that I had survived my near fatal shampooing, I would march off, determined to get reacquainted with the scents of nature. I’m not entirely sure but I remember the Big Guy’s young son also suffered from a similar immobilizing fear that application of soap to the dirt covered lad was analogous to mixing vinegar with water….
So the next time you go through an experience of being frustrated with your four-legged “Best Friend” disappearance, consider a little Canine Cosmic Cleaning. It does wonders in neutralizing our cloaking device. But be forewarned, we have an amazing ability to re-boot our stealthy capabilities. Just give our noses a couple of minutes to ferret out some poop. Then, “poof” we’ll be gone again.
That’s it for this edition from the Cosmic Scuttlebutt. You can catch more of my Dodger insights (thoughts from a magnificent, semi-humble dog that lived with a pack of humans) by getting a hold of your copy of When Dogs Dance with Dinosaurs. Until next time, take care.−Dodger
