Elvis the Wonder Dog

Elvis is my adorable, lovable, cute, and fairly dumb beagle.  Think Odie from the comic strip Garfield and you've got the right idea (in this comparison my cat Elsie would be Garfield, which makes the whole thing work even better because she's fat and cranky).  Here's Elvis:

Here is what he likes to do for most of the day:

He likes to sleep, eat, and run around our back yard howling at random things (and nothings).  He has to chip in and do his part like every other family member, though, so usually when I'm cleaning he will follow around and "help."  He mostly follows me from room to room and then silently sits and stares at me, but I interpret that as a sign of solidarity and support.  "Go mom!" he's saying.  "Do those dishes!  I'll lick them for you if you need help!"  We support each other in the Webb family.

Today I found a job where Elvis could be helpful for real.  I accidentally mixed a pile of washed socks with a pile of dirty socks, and they all sat on my bedroom floor in a pathetic heap.  I didn't know which socks were which.  The thing about socks is that they're pretty smelly after one use, so I figured I could distinguish the dirty from the clean by smelling them.  This seemed to be a fairly good plan, except it meant that I had to smell a bunch of dirty socks.  Ew.  After approximately three socks, I decided that I needed a new plan.  Elvis was doing his usual sit-and-stare support method, but when I looked at him the idea hit me like a lightning bolt: his nose is way better than mine!  He could for sure tell which socks are dirty and which were clean!  I just had to come up with a way for him to tell me.

I thought back to Elvis's puppyhood when he used to try to steal our dirty socks.  Dogs love smelly things, and dirty socks are the smelliest.  Rex made me stop letting him play with socks because dogs can die from getting socks caught in their intestines (I thought Rex was being paranoid, but that's actually true.  Google it if you don't believe me).  Elvis hadn't played with socks in years.  Well, today was his lucky day (kind of).  I called him over and tentatively held the first sock up to his nose.  He sniffed it and then turned away, bored.  Clean socks are boring, you see.  They don't have any fun smells.  I held up the next sock and got the same reaction.  I checked it myself to see if it was clean, and indeed it was.  When I held up the third sock, Elvis tentatively bit the end - not to take it away from me, but more to say, "Mmmm...this smells yummy."  I smelled it to check, and yep!  It was dirty.  I had an accurate sock checker!

I held up every sock to Elvis's nose, and he would bite the dirty ones and look away at the clean ones.  He never tried to run away with the dirty socks, but sat right next to me and checked every sock until the whole pile was gone.  What a good boy!  I wish I could have rewarded him with a particularly smelly sock, but I don't want him to die so he just got a bone and a treat instead.  I don't think he cared too much.  :-)