When Yaks Attack

I was sitting at my desk writing, with my trusty dog lying on the floor by my side, when suddenly I heard this sound like someone was letting the air out of a tire. It went on for about five seconds and then stopped. I looked around the room to see if there was a gas leak or something ... and that's when I smelled it. It was like a cross between a toxic waste dump and a festering swamp. It was so bad my eyes began to cloud over and my eyebrows started to fall out of their follicles. That's when I realized it WAS a gas leak. But it wasn't a gas leak from the pipes. It was a gas leak from the dog. I looked down at him and saw that he hadn't moved a muscle, hadn't even twitched. I had to wonder, how could something that noxious escape from his nether regions and not sear the hair off his tail?

Fortunately, because of the pandemic, I still had some face masks handy, and I put one on before my nose hairs got singed and I lost all sense of smell, although right then, that would not have been a bad thing.

Meanwhile, I couldn't figure out what had caused him to pass gas that was a veritable weapon of mass destruction. And then I remembered I had ordered a bone for him online that was made of yak milk. The yak, of course, is not an animal we would generally run into here, so yak milk is not widely available. This is probably because no one wants to get close enough to a yak to milk it. But the online pet store I ordered from said yak milk bones are easily digestible and great for big chewers like my dog. It said nothing about the fact that while yak milk bones might be easily digestible, they have a residual effect that results in flatulence that could flatten a World Wrestling Entertainment champion.

Naturally, I would feel bad if my dog were physically distressed by the Yak Yucks, as I decided to call them. But he seemed completely unfazed by his nuclear butt emissions. It occurred to me that a dog that liked to roll in dead things in the yard probably wouldn't care if he made my house smell like a bog. However, I would feel guilty if he wiped out the entire planet with his gas, which was a distinct possibility considering how it was affecting me.

I decided I needed to consult with my veterinarian before things got worse, and by worse, I mean caused the paint to peel off my walls and the tile to buckle on my floors. She said if he had no symptoms other than gas, it was OK to give the dog some Gas-X to remedy the gas leak.

Later, when my husband got home, the dog's gas had dissipated, but the house still smelled a little like a men's locker room after the Super Bowl.

"What's that smell?" he said, pinching his nose.

"We had a gas leak," I said.

"Did you call the gas company?" he asked.

"Something like that," I replied.

"What did they say?"

"Shut off the main valve," I said. "And don't give the dog any more yak."

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Tracy Beckerman is the author of the Amazon Bestseller, "Barking at the Moon: A Story of Life, Love, and Kibble," available on Amazon and Barnes and Noble online! You can visit her at www.tracybeckerman.com.

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