What I Smell

This is the third in a series of self explorations I’m making in order to answer the larger question, “What does Mia think?” The first two installments, What I See and What I Hear are linked.

Occasionally, when Momma and Daddy travel, I hang out at the Big Country Vet boarding house with new found friends — both dogs and the human variety. I’d include cats in that number except for the fact that cats are finicky and they get the more posh quarters across the foyer. And they don’t mingle with us out in the play yard. Finicky and perhaps a little elitist.

Nonetheless, I have an opportunity to visit with my pals through the cyclone fence.¹ We often talk about what our humans say to us. It was a little shocking to me to learn that a lot of humans tell their dogs that they smell bad. (The Insult.) Momma and Daddy have never mentioned it about me and I, of course, have never said such a thing about them.

I did a little research to look into this and it was no surprise to me to see that dogs actually smell really good. Or maybe it’s smell really well. Daddy is always complimenting my sniffing capabilities. And my in-depth study has revealed why he’s right on the nose in doing that.

Did you know that dogs have up to 300,000,000 odor receptors in their smelling system? That’s 50 times the number that humans have. And the smell-part of our brains is forty times larger, proportionately, to humans. Just those statistics alone should be enough to silence those insulting humans. But there’s more.

Dogs have a really unique smelling system. In the smelling department, dogs literally win by a nose! Consider these physical characteristics:

• Just like humans, dogs smell by trapping odors in the sensitive membranes in the nasal passage. And, just like in humans, the dampness breaks down the odor molecules into chemicals that are read onsite and then signaled to the brain. But there’s a huge difference. The sensors in the human brain are about the size of two postage stamps — one in each nostril. A dog’s membranes can be as big as a handkerchief, depending on the size of the dog. I’m a medium size dog, so Daddy thinks my smelling membranes are probably about the size of a Bounty everyday napkin.²

• Humans smell and breathe through the same passageway. You may think that’s really efficient. But when they are breathing out, they are creating a wind force that prevents smells from coming in. Dogs breathe in through the nose, but the air we need sails on into our lungs while we draw a portion through a side passage into the sensitive smelling membranes mentioned above. Then, when we breathe out, the used-up air exits through slits on the sides of our noses. Our smelling apparatus is never blocked out! When we’re really sniffing hard, we can inhale short whiffs into those membranes at a rate of 300 times per minute. And that’s why we never hyperventilate when we’re sniffing. We separate our smelling intake from our breathing intake. If we didn’t, we would have to have our humans carry around brown paper bags to breathe into in addition to those essential poop bags.

• Dogs smell in stereo. Not only do we smell a lot of stuff, we can also tell which direction the smell is coming from. If you’ve ever seen one of us weave back and forth while sniffing, it’s because we are sorting out smells and following the one that is of most interest to us.

• And the last point about our superior smelling structure is that we exhibit neophilia. That’s really more of a brain thing but it impacts our sniffing behavior. Neophilia means that we are intrigued by new things — especially smells. That makes us really curious — and occasionally jealous when a sniff seems to indicate that our human has been hanging around with another dog.

I think that when humans tell their dogs they smell bad that it is really their inferiority complex acting up.

The really neat thing is that all of this means that dogs really smell good — or well. I’m providing this research to all of my friends down at the kennel in pamphlet form so that their humans will be better informed.

Because dogs have this superpower of smelling, there are some awesome things that we can help humans with. Like finding lost people and even deceased folks after a natural disaster or act of war. Just walking around, humans shed about 50 million cells a minute plus additional sweat and breath vapors. Scientists tell us that if humans got down on their hands and knees and sniffed that they would have some success in tracking people via the shedding of cells. But dogs are 1000 times better. It’s because of our superior nose.

Did you know that a dog can detect substances at concentrations of 1 part per trillion? For a word picture, imagine that 1 drop of water contains the substance providing an odor. Put that 1 drop in the water it would take to fill 20 olympic size swimming pools. A dog can detect it.

That’s not only helpful in tracking people. It’s become a big deal in helping support people and diagnose illness. Specially-trained dogs are telling their humans when they are about to have a seizure or a migraine or when their blood sugar is low — all on the basis of smell. And they can detect diseases by identifying elements in urine³ and blood samples.

Never ever let a human ever say to their dog, “You smell bad.” We smell good — and it’s a scientific fact.

So, what do I smell?

Not enough space here to provide a comprehensive list. The things I like to smell?

• The unique smells that float off Momma and Daddy at 50 million cells a minute. They are my people and their scents make me very happy. I let them play with my stuffed animals because once Momma and Daddy go to sleep at night, Monkey, Marina, and the yet un-named squeaky toy all remind me of my humans.

  

• Food. I always know how fresh my kibble is from its smell. And I know when Momma has added a little scrambled egg. From the other side of the house, I know when human foods are being cooked and which are the ones that Momma will sneak to me when Daddy’s not watching. I also love the smell of the frozen yogurt treats Momma makes for me. And the pieces of watermelon Daddy cuts from his portion and plops on Momma’s plate knowing she’ll share them with me. I even like the way my fake bone smells.

  

• New people and their food smells and their pet smells.

• Rain. Sunshine. Daddy thinks I can even smell the dark. And I can. (I just can’t describe it. But I know it when I smell it.)

• Newly-mowed grass.

Just think about your favorite smells and how they make you feel. Now multiply that 1000 times. And you’ll know how really good your dog smells. And why we’re always wagging our tails.

Everyday things are a true gift. Be sure and develop your abilities. You can smell good, too.

Online Sources:

Phoenix Veterinary Center. “How Powerful is a Dog’s Nose.” July 23, 2020.

University of Alaska - Fairbanks. Ned Rozell. September 29, 2023.

Understanding Animal Research. Mia Rozenbaum. June 19, 2020.

1. When I tell Daddy about it, he always says that reminds him of some prison movies he’s seen. But, we don’t smoke cigarettes or pass escape plans back and forth through the fence. So, not really the same.

2. Just to give you an idea on scale, Daddy weighs in at about 135 pounds with two postage-stamp-sized-smelling-membranes. I am 53 pounds with a monstrous Bounty-everyday-napkin soaking up the smells.

3. Of course we can. Just think of the thousands of pee-mail messages we decode on our walks every day.