A Snuffler’s Face

Daily Note

Every day, a photograph, a poem. Sometime we call our dog, “Snuffleupagus” because he really does snuffle, not just sniff. He drills his nose into the ground and sniffs, sniffs, sniffs for every possible smell there is. And his face looks a mess after every walk.

We bought 36 cheap dishcloths and put them into a basket in the bathroom just for Guthrie. After every walk, he accepts a good, soapy scrub and rinse before he gets a sweet potato teething treat.

I didn’t even know snuffle was a word, but figured there must be one for such rigorous sniffing. He’s not really loud though, except when he clears his nose for a fresh snuffle.

Our dog is supposed to be part poodle and part retriever, in which both breeds are excellent retrievers.

Our dog does not retrieve. He snuffles, reads, and crochets, as evidenced by this photo.

He’s an interesting doodle dog, and kind and gentle. He just wants to play with us and our things. But not fetch. LOL.

Poetry

A Snuffler’s Face

Dogs sniff.
A lot.
Not my dog.
My dog snuffles—
sniff, sniff, sniffing
pushing his nose
into the dirt
to sniff, sniff, sniff some more;
stuffing his nose
into the grass
here, there, back there—
discerning trillions of smells
for just the right one—
and his face
looks like it.

Sheri Edwards
03.23.24 083.365.24
Poetry/Photography