Ah, the fine art of throwing up...

Cinder talkin'. I've got this down to a fine science - almost an art form. Pick a nice day, shortly after brunch. Wander out of the shop on your rope and act completely normal (a gentle *Burp*, a stretch and yawn, maybe a quick pee, then flop in the grass). Dad will smile sweetly and retreat back inside to work. Select only the greenest grass blades -no weeds - and munch down a good pawfull or two of salad. Lay in the sun a few moments to allow everything to ferment and start to brew.

Now wander back inside and find Dad; smile sweetly at him and curl up behind where he's working. Important: be sure to muffle the first few gurgles and urrps - don't want to spoil the fun by being drug outside before the real action starts. When you've got the pressure built up to the max you can hold, let loose with a really good *Belllccchhh* and start moving towards a carpeted area. Walk quickly, 'cause your Human will be on full alert and make a mad dash to find you. On your way, dribble a few trails of barf so they can find you, but save the really good stuff for the carpet. Dad's always kind and gentle, trying to coax me to come to the door, but I always manage to stay rivited to the carpet while I hurl.

Don't dilly-dally after you're done - beat feet for the outer spaces; the Human will quickly loose his/her concern for your wellfare when they see the magnitude of your mess.

It's usally safe to return after the paper towels have been flushed and the blotting process has begun. Just be sure to wobble a bit when you appear, and have your best sad eyes and droopy tail look to obtain maximum sympathy and minimal shouting.

Couple of notes to doggie readers: don't try this more than three or four times per summer, and never on a rainy or snowy day. Human tolerance for this trick tends to be limited. And it's no fun to stand on the front porch whimpering to be let in while a winter storm is raging.