Dog Breath

I remember when I discovered that I loved dog breath. I was five years old. My family would be on a long car trip, and our Scottish deerhound named Laddie would be panting in the back of our big brown Ford station wagon, filling it with dog breath, and I found it comforting. I'd put my face next to his mouth and inhale. At home I even tried to pretend I was its puppy, curling up with him on the hallway rug and whimpering, hoping he would adopt me as one of his own. I've had a fondness for dogs and their breath ever since. I often lift Lily's lip and stick my nose next to her teeth and inhale. I sniff her salty dog fur after she's been swimming in the sea. It was my sniffing her ear that told me she had an ear infection. All animals greet each other by sniffing, even people when they hug and kiss.

This time of year, when the humidity is high, I am startled by how much everything has a scent. My studio smells like dusty paper. When I walk down the street I can smell the particular scents from each house; stale cigarette and old varnish smell, hot TV smell, cooking smells, cat pee smell, laundry smell. I remember as a kid noticing that NYC taxi cabs had a very particular sooty vinyl smell. I loved it. Let's face it I am a dog nose. I always need new things to sniff.