I have a confession. A couple of weeks ago, I stopped on a Sandy Beach walk. Apparently one of Homer’s sirens had slipped through time, and made it those few miles from the Rocks of Scylla to the wrack line of Douglas Island.

Instead of dutifully keeping my calling of steering Cedar away from gobbling salmon bones, I got distracted by a warm, engaging (and a little bit gorgeous) woman who spun tales of her and her husband’s recent sail around the San Juan Islands. I’d forgive myself if it weren’t for what happened next: That telltale drop of Cedar’s right shoulder, tail sweeping the sand, legs clawing the rainy sky in bliss, and upper back smeared in salmon carcass. The dreaded stink roll. I swear I had just been telling the very nice siren that luckily Cedar didn’t do that with salmon. Bear shit, raven shit, dead voles… a different story.

Days from the incident, wax put back into my ears — however imperfectly — I’ve done a bit of research into “scent rolls” as they are so euphemistically called. (Sort of like cinnamon rolls, but different.)

According to the AKC, scientists have gone to some length to find dignifying motives other than the simple observation that dogs can be disgusting. (An interesting parallel inquiry might be to study the EKGs of owners when that shoulder drops.) Theories about the WHY range from disguising their own scent for the hunt, to bringing information back to “the pack” (Look what I found, Dad!), to group bonding (early wolf predecessor to TikTok challenge cred; Let’s all smell like bear shit…Go!). So far the research base hasn’t included anything about Sandy Beach sirens, so remember you heard it here first, without even having to smell it.

I hope I can be forgiven for not having photos of a scent roll (or a siren). Rather than probing the possible karmic reasons for Cedar’s Sandy Beach performance, I’ll leave you with this morning’s clip of how Cedar usually “rolls”—a happy trot down the trail, reading the ferns for the morning news or sexy ancient myths. She’ll never tell.