Spice Guy

My Dad brought back a forgotten habit when he offered Dash a whiff of some dry horseradish from Penzey's. He wrapped the open jar in his fist and held it out for Dash to sniff. Dash stood tall and straight, his front feet planted on the chair where my Dad sat. He pressed his nose against Dad's fist and inhaled deeply. Dad pulled the jar back and they looked at each other. I think they both were a little surprised. (Dash's sinuses were undoubtedly more clear.) Dad offered the jar of horseradish again and Dash plunged his nose back into his fist.

Dad put the lid on the horseradish and set it in the basket of spices. Dash looked from Dad to the basket and back again, so my Dad reached for another jar. He removed the lid and closed the jar in his fist. Dash again pressed his nose against my Dad's fist and inhaled deeply. He was completely engrossed in this new game.

When Dad moved the jar away to replace its lid, Dash followed his hand, nostrils fluttering, eager for more jars to smell. He liked them all; horseradish, zatar, Vietnamese cinnamon, coriander, sweet curry, even rosewater.

I had forgotten that I routinely offered things for my Newfoundlands to smell. It was almost unconscious, a natural way of including them in my life. They would sniff the item, and look as though they were considering the scent. When they were satisfied, they would stop sniffing, sit back and look at me. I loved that exchange.

I don't do that for Dash, maybe because his nose isn't as near to hand as a Newfoundland's nose. Or because a thing offered to this eager puppy is usually nibbled, rather than sniffed. So, with a bit of tweaking, I'm going to try and resurrect this tradition. I know we'll both enjoy it.