The scent of the demon dog

Holy Mother of God.  Have you ever actually smelled a rotten egg?

I have two dogs at the moment, my pup of two years and a stray pup we picked up.  I am also writing a book which features demons.  These two — or should I say three? — elements recently came together in a very bad way.

In my story, my demons sometimes reek of sulfur, often described as a “rotten egg” smell.  Yeah, no wonder the demons want out of Hell.

In my real-life house, I sometimes give Dog 1, henceforth referred to as The Enabler, a whole raw egg to eat.  Normally, she is very tidy, peeling off a bit of the shell to suck out the contents and then crunching down the rest of the shell.  Well, approx. a month ago or so, she must have decided she wasn’t hungry when I gave her the eggy treat.  So she buried the egg, intact.

Welcome onstage Dog 2, henceforth referred to as The God-Awful Reeker.

Yeah, you see where this is going.

So God-Awful Reeker used his wily nose to find The Enabler’s forgotten treat.  He dug it up.  He ate it.  Part of it.  But oh no, eating it wasn’t enough.  He rolled in the rest.  And he didn’t just roll.  He wallowed in it.

The God-Awful Reeker
The God-Awful Reeker

And then he walked through the house.  He sat on the rug.  He rubbed shoulders with The Enabler, thus streaking her with the most amazingly horrendous stench ever to offend my nose.

Like the foul scents of shit and death, the smell of rotten egg — once in your nose — does not come out.  It leaves an oily film that made me desperate to spray bleach directly up my nostrils and scrape my septum with a scythe.

The Enabler

The Enabler

Which brings me back to my demon story.  I have a new appreciation now for the sulfurous malodorousness that warns my heroine when danger is near.  Common writing wisdom says write what you know.  Well, I know it now.  Thanks to my demon dogs. 

What’s the most disgusting thing you’ve ever experienced?  Give me the most visceral words you know; let me feeeeeel your nose-wrinkling disgust, your lip-curled recoiling.

Was it walking by fresh roadkill skunk?  Eating camel?  (My sweetie says it tastes exactly like you’d think.)  Touching a peeled grape just as someone said the word eyeball?  C’mon, gross me out.

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