Not to be nosey, but what’s your take on smells?

On no subject do dogs and humans differ more.

To us dogs – Henry here – smells are facts; to you humans, values. A smell to a human can’t just be, it must be good or bad, yummy or yukky, depending. The verb itself, “smell,” exudes a pejorative whiff. (Few older than tots mean “you smell” flatteringly.)

Dogs refrain from judging. “There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so,” observes your ever-quotable Hamlet. Precisely! Dogs like and dislike, favor or avoid, but we do not grade like a grumpy judge every fact we face. Carll smells – not good or bad but like Carll. Who am I to generalize? Perhaps from his extrusions I can deduce his health or mood, but these are observations, not opinions. So with the world: it’s what it is, not what I decree.

The ramifications of this difference are profound. Facts one accepts; values one reacts to. One human’s good may be another’s bad, which puts them at odds, perhaps in conflict. They must, in that very human phrase, “settle their differences.” Humans affiliate around shared values, forming teams to compete, attack, hate. Dogs may gather pragmatically into packs to defend their interests, but we never hate or rate ourselves superior. Carll jaws about humility; we dogs don’t need it. I might be bigger or smaller, stronger or weaker, crankier or friendlier, than a mutt I meet, but superior? Gimme a break!

Where, you might wonder, do humans derive their prejudices? Why do they crinkle their noses at poop and smile at a whiff of warm pie? I love poop smells – they’re endlessly instructive. I like pie smells too, depending on the filling (fruit pies, not so much).

Humans are taught what to think. There’s a song by Oscar Hammerstein, Jr. – also ever-quotable – from his musical South Pacific. (Music is another topic about which dogs and humans differ.) “You’ve got to be taught,” an American soldier explains to a pretty Polynesian he’s sniffing,

This is worth quoting in extenso for its neat (and searingly ironic) characterization of the human defect. Humans are stuffed with convictions they didn’t form and can’t defend. They parrot beliefs, though that verb’s misleading. Parrots mimic human speech for the same reason dogs wag our tails: we get fed in exchange. Humans profess in unison not to offend other humans. If everyone says something’s yukky, humans tend to concur, whatever their actual opinion. This makes humans – fasten your seatbelt – capable of mass insanity. They slaughter one another and despoil their planet without anyone daring to ask, “Does this make sense?”

Such behavior – excuse the expression – stinks. Humans were given these clever brains – on some subjects cleverer than canines, if you can believe it – but they don’t use them. We dogs may not be rocket scientists, we may err, but seldom do we behave insanely. We assess facts and reach our own conclusions. If we abhor one odor and admire another, we’ve got our reasons, which we could explain if you talked Dog.