Tag: Pets

  • Our Dog Smells Bad

    (This is a Flash Fiction piece that I am releasing to the world…)

    No matter what we do, the dog always smells bad. And when I say, “smells bad,” it’s a smell combination of a “wet dog,” and corn nuts. We bathe her with expensive shampoos and conditioners, one’s specifically for serious, industrial grade dog odor. It only holds for a day or two. Then she returns back to her stink. Sometimes with a smile.

    We asked the vet about it, and she said that some dogs smell – it’s just who they are. But she ran a couple of tests anyway, to make sure there wasn’t an infection or something worse. Nope, the dog was fine. Her teeth and gums were fine, bloodwork was fine, pee and poop was fine. No signs of infections or parasites. No cancer, no ticks, no fleas, nothing. The vet suggested that we change her diet, maybe that would help. And to be safe, the vet thought it best to shame us – “This is who your dog is, maybe you should learn to accept her.” I accept the dog, just not the smell.

    She’s a mix of shih tzu and something else small. Maybe a chihuahua, maybe a wiener dog. We rescued her from a puppy mill, or at least that’s what we were told when we adopted her. She was a sad sack of a lost cause – a little under fed, and not looking happy to be rescued. While the other dogs wagged their tails, and jumped for attention, our dog just lay there on the cold linoleum floor – looking like she’d given up on life. She didn’t exactly exude the traditional joy and happiness that a dog brings to your life. She was giving off a “I’m going to get picked last” vibe. What can I say; I was always picked last. It just seemed fitting. 

    We wanted an animal in our life; my wife wanted a dog, and I wanted a cat. The animal adoption event at the Paramus Petco only had dogs, though the Facebook posting said cats would be available. But when you walk on the lot, you gotta buy. We just assumed that the bad smell was due to neglect. How were we to know it was a factory setting. We made sure we added pet shampoo to our overflowing cart of pet supplies at the store.

    She was nervous to come home with us; shook the whole way. The wife wrapped her in a blanket from the trunk to see if that would calm her down. It didn’t. She shivered but didn’t make a sound. At home, we fed her and bathed her, and let her explore our apartment. We sat on the couch and watched her sniff around wondering what she would do next, which was to take a big poop in the middle of the living room. In hindsight, we should have walked her when we got home.

    Walking her was an enlightening adventure. We discovered that our dog hated all other dogs. Our little dog displayed a level of animosity and rage that I didn’t think was possible for an animal. She would growl, hiss, and bark. Spit would fly out of her mouth, and her fur would stand up. Possession might be a good word to use – as it was like the Devil entered her body. And it didn’t matter what the other dog’s reaction was, our little guy still wanted to kill them. Once, she pulled so hard on her leash, she almost chocked herself out. So, walks became a game of avoiding other dogs.

    Before you ask, yes we tried all the training tricks to get her to be more comfortable around other dogs. We tried treats, and positive reinforcements, a firm hand, and all that other dog whisperer shit. Nothing took. We had a neighbor in our building who was a dog walker. She was positive she could train our dog. After three days, even she gave up. And she couldn’t figure it out either. Why was the dog so nice to people, but when another dog came around, she devolved into a demon? It’s just who she is, we told the neighbor, and we accept that this is who she is.

  • Prose Poetry Review: “Plum Mother” by Michael Nickels-Wisdom

    (The prose poetry piece “Plum Mother” by Michael Nickels-Wisdom was published August 27th, 2025 on Lost Balloon.)

    I don’t know if there is officially a genre of poetry that is about pets, but there should be. Most of these pieces are melancholic in nature and conclude with the pet passing on. What these pieces remind me of is Poe’s “The Philosophy of Composition,” in which he states that, “the death, then, of a beautiful woman is unquestionably, the most poetical topic in the world.” I would argue, and I am not making a joke here, that you could substitute one’s “pet” and come to the same conclusion.

    Please, let me explain…

    I was struck by this thought of while reading Michael Nickels-Wisdom’s “Plumb Mother.” This is a short prose poetry piece and it would be easy, and unwise, to simply see this as an anecdote of the speaker’s quirky but loved dog. From the beginning, the dog is delivered from above, down to the speaker, and by the second line it is established that the dog is well taken care of and has lived a long life of 17 years with the speaker and their family. In the dog’s middle age, she is given a plum which she treats as a child; acting as if it were nursing and defending the plum when it is “threatened.” Unfortunately, the plum withers, leaving the dog to set it down and mourn its passing.

    Poetry can exist and function in a timeless state, but in this piece we clearly have a past and a present. This dog now exists in the past, as we are told that in the second line, which hits on the “most poetical topic in the world,” while also establishing a melancholy feel for the rest of the poem. Though the story of the dog’s actions with the plum are humorous, it is in the last line where it is understood that there are two sets of mourning occurring here; the dog and the speaker. Yes, this is a piece about a funny incident with a dog, but it is a testament to the affection the speaker has for their pet, and to the joy and affirmation that a pet can bring to one’s life.

    It is tragic when a loved pet passes on from our families. They do give so much to enrich our lives. Reading “Plum Mother” reminded me of the tragic truth of having a pet, as we will out live them, but loving an animal as a family member is always a gift.

  • ODDS and ENDS (Early Edition): What I Will Eat on The 4th, What My Dog Thinks on The 4th, and This is What I will Watch on The 4th

    ODDS and ENDS (Early Edition): What I Will Eat on The 4th, What My Dog Thinks on The 4th, and This is What I will Watch on The 4th

    (This land is your land, this land is my land…)

    Yes! The 4th of July is here tomorrow, and me and the family will be hanging out with friends. We’ll eat all the holiday staples; chips, dip, burgers and hotdogs. But this year, I’m telling you, we need to add an item to the Independence Day menu. And that my friends, is a Chopped Cheese sandwich. A New York deli staple since I’ve been here, and if you don’t know what it is, you need to know.

    And when it comes to the 4th of July, my dog thinks that this is the day that the world is coming to an end.

    It’s JAWS and it will always be JAWS.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Lists Lists Lists, Dog Toys, and Lunch

    ODDS and ENDS: Lists Lists Lists, Dog Toys, and Lunch

    (All the things that come to you…)

    (Personally, I disagree with this A.I. created image as it did not incorporate Rodney Dangerfield.)

    It’s that time of year. The time when I get in into my head that over the kid’s Summer Vacation, I am going to get a crap ton of projects accomplished. There is so much work to do on this apartment that I am excited! No! I am THRILLED! Thrilled at the opportunity to get started and make this place feel like a home. Not that it doesn’t feel like a home – But I want it to be a home that smells like fresh paint! And to do this, I need LISTS! Ton’s of them! Some on my phone, some on my computer, some in my head, some in my wife’s head. I want to make a list of my LISTS! This is the only way I can keep track, and validate how I have spent my time this Summer! Ung! This is the season of the LIST! All Hail the List!

    We have had our dog for little over five years now. Besides the occasional peeing on the carpet, the dog has worked out fine. And as a good family who loves their dog, we buy her chew toys, usually around Christmas time, but also randomly throughout the year. As of this moment, the dog has nine chew toys, but really, she has a favorite three that she takes with her. They are her safety blanket. She sleeps with them, will bring them to us when she wants to play, or thinks we’re having a bad day. Like a kid, she’ll leave them in the middle of the floor, and become jealous when we try to pick them up. Oh, and they all smell awful. The odor is so completely vexing that smell the toy before you can place it’s location. Yet, not matter how awful the smell, we cannot throw them out. No, that would destroy the dog’s will to live. We’re not that cruel.

    Ah, lunch; the middle child of meals. Not as important as breakfast, not as flashy as dinner. Lunch, the meal that has to be gotten through – at least that’s how I thought of it when I was working outside of home. I ate often at my desk, scarfing down food because I had something that I needed to work on. Sure there was a business lunch from time to time, or meeting up with a friend, but those were rare. No, working lunch wasn’t full of enjoyment. Even now, in stay-at-home land, lunch is usually leftovers. (Though, my leftovers are pretty good – humble brag here on my cooking.) See, I can make a big breakfast for my family, as well as a big dinner; but when it comes to lunch, I feel the need to produce something to eat as fast as possible. Part of the reason is that I feel like there is something else I need to do, so I can’t put that much time and effort into this meal. Not that this sentiment is true, but it’s how it feels. Maybe lunch is more like Rodney Dangerfield.

  • Short Story Review: “War Dogs” by Paul Yoon

    (The short story “War Dogs” by Paul Yoon appeared in the October 28th, 2024 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Illustration by Wesley Allsbrook

    I had no idea that airports have animal centers. I feel like I should have known this before, I mean, with all the time I have spent at airports and seeing all the animals that come through there, it seem obvious now. It must be such a mystifying experience for animals to be loaded on a plane, taken to some place new, and how their heightened senses discover that new place.

    If you couldn’t guess, Paul Yoon’s short story “War Dogs” takes place at an animal center at one of New York City’s airports. It is an intertwined story of animal caretakers, a veterinarian, a mother traveling to Korea, a brother and sister set of dogs from Afghanistan, and a horse. Some of these characters ran from destructive situations to start better lives, some are pulled back into their old world, some are physically changing which causes them fear, while others want the comfort of those they love.

    The story was structured in eight sections, or vignettes. Each sharing insights and developments with the characters. It was a practical form to use for this story, as Yoon’s storytelling was well balanced, so we never dwelled too long on one particular plot line. It reminded me of jazz, with the theme acting as the rhythm of the piece, with each character getting a solo. This allowed each character to get fleshed out, giving some depth, and I am being vague on poupose to not spoil this story.

    Yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it didn’t wrap everything up as it should have. What this piece felt like was the first chapter of a novel; characters are being introduced, goals are set, complications develop, questions are raised. But not everything is concluded, leaving many questions left in the air. In this state, I was left feeling stood up, and incomplete.

    I understand the old adage that a writer should leave the reader wanting more, but in this case I want a novel about this place, the animals, and the people. I don’t need to tell you Paul Yoon is a good writer; read this and you’ll see. And if this was the first chapter of that novel, then I bet it would be great.