Hi, I’m Jerry. I’m a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel from Sydney and there some essential things you need to know about me. I’m easy going, yet ironically obstinate at times. I never bark, I’m cooperative and I enjoy most activities that seem to co-exist well with human life. However, I do have some firm beliefs that I’m not willing to compromise on. Treats are a must. Licking faces is a must. And generally letting me do whatever I want is a must. I also love going for walks.
I have arrived in Kirribilli for the first time, so I’m not trusted off lead. I start down Kirribilli Avenue, my nose at one with the pavement; running furiously, thoughtlessly and jaggedly after another dog’s fragrance. It’s a long street, tree-lined on one side, and on the other side, it is as though the street has been carved out of the sandstone creating a small escarpment. Over the tops of buildings, you’ll catch sight the revealing closeness of Sydney Harbour. And not just water, but the crowded cluster of glittering glass buildings, the huge, creamy shell-like sails of the Opera House, the colossal, unyielding Harbour Bridge.
Actually, I don’t notice any of this stuff. I’m captivated by smell. Humans marvel at the wonder of that harbour. Cerulean water with occasional small white crests, but otherwise calm yet mysterious under its surface. The air smells pleasantly like the sea. And, if you close your eyes, there’s a pleasant harmony of tinkling rigging on boats, faint thrumming of helicopters and trains hurtling over the bridge.
Now, think of me. Jerry. I don’t have exceptional colour vision, or an appreciation for beauty, my surroundings and so forth. My nose is my portal to sensory revelry, allure and mystery. I run with my nose touching the footpath, because I’m experiencing something so overwhelming and euphoric I cannot take my nose off for fear of losing it. When I meet a bush, tree trunk or patch of grass that renders me still. I’m in paradise.
Scent to me is what your Sydney Harbour looks like. Come and smell my world on the footpath, won’t you?