The Sweet Smell Of Spring

Everyone was talking about SPRING, but Roxy had no idea what that meant.

She trotted to the treat cupboard. No one paid any attention. SPRING couldn’t be about food.

She dropped her rubber bone in a lap. It fell to the floor. SPRING wasn’t about fetch.

She flopped on her bed and sighed. SPRING obviously wasn’t for dogs.

Her leash jingled.

“Come, Roxy. Let’s go on a Spring walk,” said her girl.

Roxy danced through squishy grass. She barked at a bright-chested bird. And she stared longingly at a ball slapping into a boy’s gloved hand.

Which one was SPRING?

“Mmmm,” said her girl. “It smells like Spring.”

SPRING was a smell? Roxy absolutely loved smells. But there were so many.

The leftover people smell of a soggy mitten.

The earthiness of a wriggly worm.

Puddles. Leaf shoots. New grass. Rubber boots.

Which one was SPRING?

Roxy caught a whiff of something fresh. Something different. That had to be it!

She lunged for the smell. Her leash slipped free.

“Roxy, wait!”

But Roxy had to find SPRING.

She splashed through trickling water.


A fat bird snapped. A whole line of little ones peep, peep, peeped.

Roxy sniffed, but they were not SPRING.

She scrambled up a muddy bank.


A small, spotty lump hop, hop hopped.

Roxy sniffed, but that was not SPRING.

The fresh, sweet smell of SPRING filled her nose. She was close.

Her girl called, “Roxy, stop!”

But Roxy couldn’t. SPRING smelled too delicious.

Her nails clicked on the sidewalk.

Ding-a-ling! Ding-a-ling! Wheels gritted to a stop.

Roxy’s nose twitched. She drooled. She shook off the mud, ready to sniff up SPRING.

“Euw!” someone said.

“Get that muddy dog away from the ice cream!” cried someone else.


At last! SPRING! Roxy licked as fast as she could.

Her girl snapped on her leash. “Roxy, you found the ice cream truck! Now I know Spring is really here.”