Scent: A Short Story

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My feet make a soft thumping sound on the fluffy surface of the ground; the two-legged ones put this softness here many sunsets ago, and even though it smells now of dust, and the bare feet of my two-legged companions, as well as the tasty treats that the small one spilled everywhere the sunset before last (it was the best day; that is, until, the tall ones took me out of the room and shut the door. When I came back in, all that remained was the lingering scent in the fibres), I still love to roll all over it. It smells quite a lot of me, and the tall ones spend eternity pulling my long dark hairs out of the tangled mesh of fluffy fibres.

This morning I have checked that all our den is right; I went in the food room and it had the lingering scent of what they ate last night; there was a large chunk of meat on the tall table, and a rich, meaty liquid, and various plants; they let me have some, and the smell of it made me drool on the floor. They were not very happy about that, even though I was just demonstrating my excitement. The room for sitting, with the box that makes noises and holds little people inside, is all in order; the little people have been put away, and they don’t come out until the tall two-legs lets them. I try to say hello to the little people, but I can never seem to reach them. The room for sitting smells cold this morning, and slightly dusty, but in the evenings when all three of them, the two talls and the small, are sitting watching the little people, it smells very much like home. It is my favourite room.

I continue round the whole den; there are no wrong smells, so when I know that it is ok I sit my the entrance to the outside and I tell them that I am ready to go outside. One of the tall ones comes down in its sleeping fur and lets me out. He makes sounds that say ‘don’t you know its half six in the morning’, but I don’t know what he means.

I run outside, my paws wet with the dew, and I sniff all the things in the outside, and they smell alright, so finally I mark my scent on the plants and the greenery and trot back inside to greet the tall two-legs, wagging my tail to let them know that everything is all alright, because they don’t always seem to know how to tell. I am rewarded for my good job with lots of scratches, so I roll over because I love to hear them make the rumbling noises, and they do, and I know by the scent of their laughter that today will be good, all the way to sunset.


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