So often it is hard to imagine what something is like until you’ve been there.
Ivan had a dog, an Alsatian. He always wondered what went on in a dog’s head. It could smell and see and hear so much more acutely than anything Ivan could imagine. Did it have a smell-scape, in a way that we map the world visually and deck it with sound? If only he could be a dog for an hour!
“You wish to be a dog for an hour?” asked the genie who had suddenly appeared out of the paperweight on Ivan’s desk. “Go! Be a dog for an hour.”
THE STENCH! OMG! The reeking stink of every room! Ivan went into his kitchen and spewed his guts out. The unbelievable aroma of putrid crap and rancid food.
Ivan ran outside. Again the smell was overpowering. Thousands upon thousands of pongs bombarded him from every direction at once.
When the hour was up, Ivan was found lying on the sidewalk. Dead.