Jerry And The Towel
The other day, holly, in her old age urinated on the laundry floor. So we mopped it up with an old towel. We hung it out on the line on the side of the house to air out and hopefully get washed by the rain.
That night I let the dogs out before bed and when I let them back in, Jerry started to run around the side of the house. I called him back before he could go too far. And it happened again, and again, until I realised what was around the side of the house. Jerry was smelling Holly, or at least he thought he was smelling two Hollys at once. That smell was the way he identified her, it was half of his connection with her, smelling her and understanding her on a biological and physiological level. He was being fooled by his senses. Like so many of us. But to be so reliant on that sense that it constantly fools you?