Just about the time I get to thinking my dog is almost lovable, I catch him mouthing a road apple or draggin’ a piece of javelina haunch home. Maybe decorum is not something I should expect in a cowdog.

DOG ROLLIN’

There are some deep philosophical questions that cry out for explanation: Is there really life after death? Do fish ever get tired of seafood? And why do dogs roll in fresh horse manure?

To the dog’s credit, it doesn’t have to be horse’s manure, and it doesn’t have to be fresh. It can be old garbage, big-game offal, varmint remains, unrecognizable roadkill, swamp water, sewage drains, rotting cabbage, putrifying hen eggs, cow pies . . . virtually anything that would make a maggot nauseous.

For three weeks, my next-to-worthless all-American cowdog, Boller, came home smellin’ like fish. And friends, it didn’t waft off him with the delicate aroma of fresh trout frying in lemon and butter. It was like opening an apartment door on a dead buffalo in August.

I gave him several baths and kept him chained at night. All to no avail. Finally I cut him loose and tracked him across the road. Our creek had run full early in the spring, then went down. It had stranded some Boone and Crockett carp on the bank. Boller went over and played with them every day. Left his new rawhide bone on the porch.

I quizzed him about his filthy habits. He looked at me with that same exasperated expression I had seen on my uncle Dink when I asked him why he drank warm buttermilk.

I considered and discarded the theory that it is some instinctive protective device. Can you imagine a pack of wolves trying to sneak up on a herd of caribou after rolling through a pile of whale droppings and dosing themselves liberally with polar bear vomit? The caribou would pick ’em up as soon as they cleared Canadian customs!

It occurred to me it might be an insect repellent. Certainly it would offend the discriminating bug, but I doubt if that includes ticks, skeeters, flies, lice, bedbugs, fleas, or your average bloodsucking bat.

Maybe it has something to do with making them attractive to a prospective mate? There are certainly some modern corollaries in the human race that lend credence to this theory. A whole industry is based on making us smell like Pine Sol, cheddar cheese, or a rutting beaver.

Even if I could figger out the reason for this revolting animal behavior, I doubt it would make Boller any easier to be around. I do know this: Be careful letting a dog lick your face, for the same reason you should hesitate before shakin’ a veterinarian’s hand. . . . You never know where it’s been!