Or Not...
My baby dog has no stomach for ice cream it seems. At least I think that's what made him throw up on the seat of Paul's truck. Or maybe it was the tiny bits of pizza I gave him. (I know. It's so hard to resist those eyes, though. I should not be so indulgent. Or let him be.) Maybe it was the walk around the school, though it was late and fairly cooled off. He did it, though. As soon as we got back in the truck. Barfed right there on the seat. Fortunately there was a handful of paper towels in the door side pocket and I got it cleaned up, then washed the seat off when we got home.
Then again, maybe it was the cat poop in the yard that he finds and can't resist.
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