There's a squadron of F18 Super Hornets sailing on the USS Abraham Lincoln with tail insignia meant to be a fierce predator but actually looks like a puking dog. Bless their badasses, they owned up to it and have since been known as the Pukin Dogs.
This is to say, we had a puking dog all night last night. He's fine, ate his breakfast, he's looking at me right now wondering why I'm doing this instead of going for a walk.
We had a dog once that puked, and other dog just puked in sympathy.
My favorite dog puke story comes from a dear friend. He was living in Italy at the time, staying with a fellow up in the mountains. The fellow had a Rottweiler, and this one time, it ate whole a rotting boar. Didn't go so well afterwards. Eventually they all piled into a the cinquecento and started down the mountain, the poor rotty in the throes. About half way down, rotty, head between driver and passenger, let loose a long, ghastly burp, so bad they had to stop and get out and recover. After that, rotty's fine. Where are we going!? Dog after all.
What's your dog puke story?
Tommy from NC