Tragic Deformity

My dog's got no nose. He is an idiot. I weep for his tragic position. The vet only suggests euthanasia for the poor underdeveloped hound, then I steal him away into my arms. I want to rescue him from a world he cannot apprehend and the braying laughs of the other dogs that he cannot comprehend. Thankfully his hearing works well enough to respond to my praise and appeals to fetch, but he does not recognise me. I can't let him out of my sight at the park in case he should wander home with another passer-by wearing a similar coat. He must be carefully fed and shown where to mark his scent by my example. When out walking he shows no interest in lamp posts or the invisible trails along the ground. I have to drag him away from turds in the street - his own and those left by other animals - to prevent him from tasting them.

He smells terribly, of course.