Enough with the sniffing," I chided my dog, DJ, during our evening walk. "It's just a fire hydrant."
"Maybe for you, pal, but for me, it's like a Facebook page. All the news that's fit to tinkle is right here." DJ lifted his leg and marked the red hydrant. "There," he chuckled, "I just added my two scents."
"What did you just post?" I asked.
"Just the usual meshugas: chased my tail all morning. Gobbled down your burger when you weren't looking," DJ jumped with glee.
"Haha, the joke's on you, it was a beyond-the-meat burger!" No dog's gonna match wits with me, I thought.
"Back on you, dude. Those patties give me gas beyond the twilight zone. This time your 'The dog did it' claim will actually be true!" DJ lifted his left hind leg and tooted out some gas.
"Impressive," I said while pinching my nose. "Tonight you're sleeping in the garage."
I lurched forward as DJ abruptly tugged me towards the bushes while snorting loudly. "Stella! Stella was here!" he barked. "And she's in heat, yum yum."
Stella, the unattainable Afghan hound; her owner, Marcel the florist, ensured she remained at least 100 meters away from any "common" neighborhood mutt. After all, he had lofty breeding plans for her, allowing only pedigreed Afghan hounds to come close to his prized blond beauty.
I took a moment and marveled at the incredible olfactory abilities of dogs, at their bionic capability to pinpoint a specific scent down to the molecular level. How was that even possible?
"I still can't wrap my head around how you extract all this information from a quick sniff," I said.
"You're asking the wrong pooch, I failed obedience school after all. But I'm as good a sniffer as those hotshot airport hounds." DJ inhaled deeply while pressing his wet nose against the telephone pole. "Ozzie the schnoodle just got a new pair of cojones implants. Otto the rottie ate Nutsy, that annoying squirrel we all despise, and Miss Beasley the beagle is expecting octuplets, though she's uncertain who's the father. Not to brag, but I made the shortlist."
"You manage to discern all that from a few sniffs on a telephone pole? Bow wow wow!"
"Absolutely," DJ replied while taking a whiz on the telephone pole, "And not to boast, but my markings get the most sniffs in the neighborhood."
We've been engrossed in the world of social media for a mere two decades, while for dogs, it's been something like a staggering 20,000 years. It's mind-boggling how their simple act of urinating has evolved into a sophisticated and comprehensive canine information board. In a way, a dog's sense of smell is akin to our highly developed brain.
And all it takes is a quick tinkle, no internet connection, wifi, or scrolling down. A sniff and all that information is collected, sorted, and analyzed. Some might call it simply, "Sniffing the fire hydrant." I call it another wonder of our universe. Elegant, as Einstein would've said.