AIR OF THE DOG  (a true story) © 1996 David Roth

We have a little dog whose name is Oly  

He doesn’t like to spend much time alone

So it’s fortunate he landed in our household

Cuz both my wife and I work out of our home

You can guess what I do, and Tricia does massage

She has a treatment chamber in our smallest room of three

Oly likes to nudge the door to sneak under the table 

While Tricia works on shoulders, backs, and knees   

One day we’d run all out of Oly’s dog food

And for some reason we could not get to the store

So we had to dig around and found some ancient mongrel chow cans

The stuff we’d buried way back in the cupboard

This change in Oly’s diet was not welcomed by his system

An eight-year old “canardly”, still he ate all that was there

Let’s just say the phrase “intestinal disturbance” comes to mind

When we detected something different in the air

That very day a brand new massage client

Was coming to the house for the first time

He'd never had a rub before and won it in a raffle

So with eager expectation rang our chime

Tricia brought him in the house and took him to the table

The room was warm and cozy and the music soft and calm

Tricia left the room so that this person could disrobe

And as was customary climb in, facing down

When my wife returned she was immediately accosted

With an odor so horrific it defied a common label

Not completely unfamiliar though, for there indeed was Oly

Looking sheepishly from underneath the table

“I’m so embarrassed” Tricia blurted and removed the foul offender

While explaining about the canine food’s malodorous effect

Then she reentered, still apologizing, all abashed and mortified

A farting pooch does not inspire respect

Whereupon this untouched patron stirred beneath his linen membrane

He propped up on her elbows and pronounced this epilogue

With chagrin upon his face she said “I don’t know how to tell you but 

It didn’t come from you or from your dog...”

* a “canardly” is a mix of mutt you canardly tell what it is