As you have surely noticed, Frankie is a very handsome dog. He has many appealing features, including soulful eyes and a tousseled chic coif.
But the one attribute that stands out for me — literally — is his nose. Black and cute as a button, it’s like the cherry on the top of an ice cream sundae. The nose is tough for me to resist touching.
Which is why I was quick to notice an odd growth on it.
First, I thought it was a sticky piece of dirt, but when it didn’t flick or wipe off easily I became concerned.
Mind you, I’m not clueless. I’ve seen Frankie sneeze. It immediately occurred to me that the offending matter might be hardened mucous. Nor am I squeamish. I’ve removed crud from Frankie’s eyes, dangling dingleberries from his butt.
But this whatever-it-was extended tumor-like from inside the nose out to the top.
And it wasn’t falling off.
So for the next few days I became obsessed by Frankie’s nose. Among the things that went through my mind:
- If it was a natural excretion (a.k.a. dog booger), why wouldn’t Frankie try to remove it? I’ve seen him substitute my rug for toilet paper (and no, it wasn’t an anal sac issue, just a cleanliness thing). And sometimes he rubs his face like a cat after eating. For a dog, he’s rather fastidious.
- What if I tried harder to remove the thing and it turned out to be a scab from an unobserved wound? Or the aforementioned tumor? His nose would bleed and then what if I couldn’t stop it? The nose has a lot of blood vessels. I researched that.
It was driving me crazy, to the point that I was contemplating taking Frankie to the vet. Two things stopped me: The potential for embarrassment. And the expense.
That afternoon, I explained my dilemma to my friend Barbara over happy hour cocktails. We didn’t arrive at any conclusions but, after the second mojito for each of us, we found the fact that we were discussing dog snot really, really funny.
Laughter must have been the magic release formula. Lo and behold, I came home to discover that Frankie’s nose was growth-free. I’ll probably find the offending matter somewhere near my pillow, which is gross, but not medically worrisome.
The moral of this story? There really isn’t one. I just figured that, if you have a tendency to freak out over unexplained dog growths, you might want to know you’re not alone.
It also gave me the excuse to show you some mighty cute pictures of Frankie’s nose.
By the way, I considered calling this post Out, Damned Snot! But I didn’t want to give away the ending.