I am Doodlebug, King of the Olde English Bulldogges.
Sweetie: Lady Human, something stinks.
MoonCat: Meow! And I know exactly what it is. And who.
Me: Yes. I do, too. Get up, Sweetie. Your whole sleeping space is going to have to be deep cleaned.
Doodlebug: Yes, Sweetie. PLEASE!
Sweetie: Why me? I’m comfortable, except for the stink.
Me: If you were a horse, I might call this mucking out your stall, so move over here while I…
Sweetie: But it’s the way I like it, except for the stink.
Me: Well, smells can accumulate. Between the potty accident the other day which I cleaned up but which left lingering reminders and the spilled water and the spilled food and the tracked in dirt and mud from outside and…
Sweetie: Muck out somebody else’s stall and leave me alone and happy…except for the stink.
Sweetie: Sniff. Sniff. Sniff. Nothing to trouble you. Just go on about your business.
Me: If you are thinking about digging in the trash, it is most certainly my business.
Sweetie: Just patrolling to make sure you all aren’t wasting any food. But you’re okay. Everything here stinks to high heaven, and not in the good way. Not one item to tempt a bulldog or a human, and we know how loose human standards are.