Jack and Fleck

Jack was home tonight. Sherry went out with the girls. He is in bed. She is still not home. It is after 2am.

Flecka is tired. I can smell it on her. Her body is giving out. I can smell that. I can smell her pulse slowing, her metabolism slowing, her confusion and her exhaustion.

Doubt me? I smell everything. I can smell when a dog is scared. And people. Human emotions have the strongest scent of any species. Those who try to control and master their emotions have the strongest smelling emotions. Fear and anger and lust and such have the strongest scent. They have a strong musky smell, sometimes a bit sour, even putrid.

Love has a sweet smell, like a mix of vanilla and lavender. But that is just me. When I tell that to other dogs, weredogs and werewolves, they always say it smells like something else.

Jack and Flecka have a strong connection. When she goes he is going to hurt bad. He lets her out each night between 2300 and midnight, to do her business. If he forgets, or is not home, she shits somewhere in the house, wherever she is sleeping. Tonight he let her out and instead of walking around the front yard, she just went out about ten feet and plopped down in the grass, too tired to walk or sniff or poop. Jack stood there for a while. I watched from the front windows. Then he sauntered over and sat down next to her. And they stayed there a while, nearly midnight, the two of them, in the middle of the front lawn, not moving, sniffing the air and checking the sky. Kids were driving by, on their ways home, blaring music. None of them saw Flecka and Jack.

I have to wrap this up. Got a meeting to make, of weredogs and werewolves. Neo news. I can't bloody wait.

I just Flecka a sniff. She is fine, for tonight. Jack too, although a bit heavy with the scent of beer. I think I will help myslef to one of his beers when I get back tonight. The way he was putting them down, he will never know.