My treat pouch stinks. Like, it really stinks. It smells like someone gutted and stuffed a fish with freeze-dried beef liver. Gross, right? My fiance and I were once sitting in church, and he suddenly sniffed the air, wrinkled his nose, and whispered, “Do you smell dog treats?”

“What? Umm, no…” I replied sheepishly while pushing my pouch to the opposite hip. I’d forgotten to take it off after seeing some clients. Hopefully, I don’t smell like my treat pouch… but I might be out of luck with how much time I spend dispensing various treats. Guess it’s time to clear out Bath & Body Works…

Anyways, as offensive as the treat pouch may be to my human companions. Obviously, my canine ones think differently. I expect they view me as a very tall Leprechaun carrying a pot of gold around my waist. There’s more than just “gold” in that pot, though. There’s diamonds, pearls, emeralds, and rubies and… where am I going with this?