And then there was one.

Sometimes I feel I have an amazing sense of smell.

Along with that comes the down side: Smells can be overwhelming to me.

Years ago, I was diagnosed with chemical sensitivities. From what I've heard, people who have them can feel the effects of odors more acutely. I certainly notice that in myself. The smell of a cigarette chokes me and burns my nose and throat. I feel my airway tightening. I may wheeze and require a puff or two of albuterol. Perfumes also do this, as do air fresheners. That new car smell does it too. My eyes burn and I get a headache. My skin can itch and when my problem was severe, I got tiny hives on my skin and dermatographia. I got bronchitis and pneumonia. It wasn't until all the Partylite candles, Bath and Body works, heavily scented laundry detergents and toiletries left the house that I could start to heal.

One of my chemical sensitivities is to formaldehyde which is in many fragrances as well as in tobacco smoke. My son likes to tell a funny anecdote about how I smelled the cigarette smoke in someone else's car as we were driving. He still doesn't believe I did. He thinks I'm crazy.

So me and my hyperactive sense of smell were travelling down a back road a few days ago when all of a sudden, the smell hit me. There had been logging on the side of this road and there was a pile of wood debris. A man was on a small bulldozer, scraping the ground. Instantly, I was transported back to the age of 18. The smell of balsam pitch and cedar impregnated into the clothes of someone I knew who worked in the woods. How I love that smell. I wish I could bottle it.

I don't know how it is with other people but for me, smells can bring me back in time.

My Chicago grandparents had a certain odor to their kitchen, especially when you opened their cabinets. They've been gone many years, but a couple times since then I've smelled that smell in someone else's house. I wish I could explain the smell but I can't. It's not pleasant or unpleasant, but I know it when I smell it.

I drive past a farm and think of the livestock at the fair that happens every August. I go to that fair and think of my horses, gone so many years. The smells of fireworks on the 4th of July make me think of sparklers and those snakes you would light as a child. That sulfur smell is heaven to my nose. I loved the black marks they left on the sidewalk.

Dog paws smell like Fritos. Have you ever heard that? Don't believe me, take a sniff. That was one of my last thoughts a week ago today. To smell Gomez's paw one last time. I wish I had thought to do it sooner because, once he left his body only a very faint corn chip smell remained.

A week has gone by so quickly. I still miss him at the foot of my bed. Following me around the house. My little shadow. I've had a couple days that I haven't cried.

He was such a large part of my life and I miss him. It's that simple.

I think Toby does too.

Our vet is an hour away. I held Gomez in my arms and on my lap all the way home. When we got there, my husband carried him in and gently laid him on the floor. Toby smelled him all around his body. When he was done, he gave me a good smell up and down my legs as I sat on the floor. Once he was satisfied, he walked away.

He's always been so independent (unless we were camping - then he was all, "you're not leaving me behind here, not in this camper, no way!!"). At home he didn't give a shit. Lately he has only wanted to be left alone, getting agitated and upset when disturbed.

Until Gomez died, that is.

Ever since then our little grumpy old man has been so clingy. He gazes at me as I cook, sitting where Gomez sat on the rug. He follows me around the house. He sleeps at my feet or at my side. He's constantly seeking my eye contact.

It's almost like he knows what I need.

Maybe it's what he needs too.