The dog gave me a look I hadn't seen before.
Normally, he had a slightly-confused expression... you know, like he wanted to ask me a question about quantum physics, but wasn't sure if he would use the right terminology, or if that was even my particular area of expertise.
Sometimes, he had this happy grin and his tongue would hang out, and I'd feel pretty good about myself for taking this canine in from the streets and providing him a happy home.
Of course, he could have just been hot and thirsty. I'm really not good at reading human expressions. Animals are a whole different problem.
The look today was different, though.
He definitely wasn't confused. Or happy. He seemed oddly sure of himself. His neck craned back with an air of defiance and he kept both of his eyes locked to mine as he lifted his right paw and then planted it firmly on the ground.
Then, he puked.
It was effortless. The yellow vomit spilled out of his mouth as if he were a soda fountain.
In an instant, it was over.
The odd expression was gone. He grinned and the tongue came out and it was just me, the dog and his happiness over the pile of yellow goo that was quickly soaking into the carpet.
He looked away from me and over to the bottle of cleaner we keep on hand for these happy occasions.
I grabbed some paper towels and made a mental note to throw a towel under the pup the next time he seemed so confident.
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