A Rose By Any Other Name

I don't mean to toot my own horn, but I am a connoisseur of fine smells. I love to use my nose to discover the world around me. Here's a good shot of my beak...

And another close-up of my smell-sniffer...

One good whiff through the air vent in the pickup can tell me all about the countryside we're driving through. I can tell you if there are there other dogs nearby, or cows and horses, what's cooking outside on the grill for supper, and where there's a super odiferous pile of goop to roll in. The nose knows, you know.

So imagine my surprise when Mom started coming home with a new smell on her. I couldn't quite figure it out, never having come across the likes of it in my whole seven years. It always seems to be situated on her shoulder, sometimes on her arm and once in her hair. I puzzled over this for awhile until I hit on a way of finding out. I asked Cap. You know Cap, he's older than dirt and seen it all. And he told me the answer.

"It's baby burp, pup. Haven't you ever smelled burp before, young whippersnapper?" Well, nooooo, if I had I wouldn't have asked. I haven't officially been introduced to Little Guy yet. Mom says grandbabies are not squeaky toys and she won't let us play together until Little Guy is old enough not to get knocked over. So I'll just have to settle for whiffs of milky baby's breath until we actually meet. That and pictures, which Mom seems to have an abundance of cute ones to share. He does actually look a little like my yellow rubber ducky, doesn't he?

~Tell