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We are still fighting the battle of Stink at our house. This morning, however, we were assaulted by a new wave, Stench on the Move. Our cute little puppy came bounding into the house covered head to tail with a disgusting, mud-colored smell. Not only was he wet, but he had rolled in something distinctively dead. Maybe "rolled in" isn't quite accurate. Immersed himself in gut goo. Painted his little furry body with a decaying critter. Put on the Stench of Death like a cologne, dabbing it liberally behind each ear and under all four armpits.
Now the Stink was no longer confined to our office closet, it had feet. It promptly launched itself on Miss Munchkin's bed and rolled around on her comforter. Then it galloped into the living room, where it rubbed up against the couches. Lastly, before we could catch it, the Stench jumped up on me, transferring its horrible smell to my skin, where no amount of scrubbing could entirely remove it.
So, if I run into you today, I apologize. I'd feel a little better if you could manage not to wrinkle your nose and gasp, "What's that awful smell?"
Yeah, good luck with that.