It has a Heady Bouquet


A series of “Pixie’s head smells like” posts, without dates, ’cause what am I, your secretary?  I had introduced the series thusly:

I just realized I’ve been subconsciously playing a game with myself which I’ve just dubbed, “What does Pixie’s head smell like today?” It consists of hugging Pixie and, while so doing, sniffing the top of her soft, furry head.

Sometimes, she smells like generic dog… sometimes like hound dog, which is rather unpleasant… sometimes like a unique Pixie-dog scent, which I, as her mom, find lovely. (Much, I imagine, the way new mothers feel about the scent of their baby’s head. It’s at once comforting and intoxicating, like I’m getting lost in it.)

Sometimes she’s been running under the cedar trees and smells like evergreen sap. Sometimes like the soap or lotion of a person who petted her… even for days afterward.

My name is Heidi, and I’m a Pixieholic.

Other posts:

  • Today and last night, Pixie’s head smells like Winter Camp.
    That’s like summer camp, but with less apple picking and more hot apple cider, fewer hay rides and more sleigh rides, less fire dancing and more fireplaces.
  • Today, Pixie’s head smells like fresh-baked doughnuts at a construction site.
  • This morning, Pixie’s head smells like a winter coat.
  • Tonight, Pixie’s head smells like wet hamster food pellets.
  • Tonight, the top of Pixie’s head smells like alfalfa, and the back part of her skull smells like microwave pizza. The combined effect: delicious.
  • Tonight, Pixie’s head smells like dirt and celery.