But MY Dog Doesn't Do That

The natural instincts that formed the kinship between man (or woman) and dog is an old, old instinct. It is a warm and honorable symbiosis between humans, just cave-men back then, and dogs, or more likely, wolves—just cave-dogs—I suppose. Oh, there are a few natural instincts that are older, now that the subject has been brought up. One of these is the instinct driving dogs (wolves) to spray an existing “mark” with a “mark” of their own. Another, it seems, is the human counterpart's instinct to cover for their companion's act of covering.

How can these specific odors offend these hairy ape-men, still centuries from inventing soap, showers, and shampoos. The trade-marked Secret Deodorant may in fact be strong enough for a man and made for a woman. It was, however, never ever ever engineered for the cave-woman. Let's face it, their smells must have been able to melt glaciers. Even so, when suspecting an animalish odor found in the cave-dirt, their shame must have risen along with the fumes. The deceit begins. Thog, our uni-browed cave-mom, would probably look in anger at her daughter. She'd bark (literally), “Thogalina! What you step in? That no be Pooky! Pooky no poo in cave! Me know! It you Thogalina. Yous stinky!” Thogalina would then angrily deny it, of course, as all teens did back then. She'd talk back to Thog. Thak would defend his mate. Then, at that point, probably, anybody in the cave with an opposable thumb would break out their great big top-heavy clubs to further clarify points of view on cave breaking cave-dogs, or why is everything Thogalina's fault.

These weren't bad people. They weren't beaters and liars. Twas surely just a different time then, that's all. What would be called domestic disturbance today held probably a far less ominous tone back then. Besides, just how did Thog find her way in the caves in the first place? A club, of course! Sure, cartoons have portrayed it for generations. Thak meets Thog. Thog meets Thak's club. And hair, back then, was so healthy, even without shampoo. Why, a girl could be dragged by her roots for miles without suffering much worse than some split ends. Somethings though, haven't changed much at all, however. Teens still like the drama. Clubs still rock. And, also, pet owners still cover for their animals, and the eons of genetically grafted behavior patterns found in their species that compel them to mark funny smelling smells with funny smelling smells of their own.

Today, professional carpet cleaners have all sorts of fun technology and voodoo to identify and eliminate most severe pet odor situations without the time and expense of re-carpeting the house (or cave). Therefore, with these odor-controlling methods, there should be no embarrassment, no stigma, that an animal may have done it's personal business, or its canine business, actually, in the same areas where families do their family business. Right? Wrong. Carpet cleaners hear it all the time. Real estate agents hear it all the time. Property managers do too. When asked about the source of the odors, the pet-owning occupants of apartments and homes-for-sale, can become very defensive. Therefore, a professional needs tact. The professionals keep nodding while the pet owner claims their dog was a licensed plumber and pulled Timmy out of a well ten times since last Summer. They say that there is no way it “went” there. Not their baby. Not Pooky! Must've been their mother-in-law, or ghosts. Next thing you know, despite all the changes and improvements throughout time, if a cleaner, agent, or manager continues to indicate that Pooky is the culprit, the clubs may just make a comeback yet!