Puppy Puke Part 2

My apartment complex has become a thriving butterfly community.  There are little yellow ones and little orange ones everywhere.  I do not like butterflies or moths.  They used to downright terrify me.  If one came within fifty feet of me, I would scream and run.  Now, I flinch at at initial discovery and just keep my eyes on the little shit until I am sure it has traveled a safe distance from me.

Auggie loves all flying insects.  She catches them and eats them.  It is a handy habit when a fly or mosquito hawk finds it's way into the apartment, a hilarious habit when she bites into a stinkbug, and a stressful habit when she catches a bee or wasp.

The past few days, our time at the dog park has consisted of her gleefully chasing and eating butterflies while I play poker on my phone.  Every so often, I'll glance up because I get a sick thrill from watching my little exterminator at work.  Today I looked up to find her at the very back of the park, with her nose to the ground.  Assuming she was eating something she shouldn't (mushroom, dog shit, dead animal) I yelled for her to stop and ran out to her.

As I got closer, I realized she wasn't eating anything at all.  Just the opposite.  Poor thing was vomiting.  I started talking to her in my soothing voice, "Aw, baby.  It's going to be ok."   And that's when I saw it.

There in the small puddle of puke, two butterflies.  One little yellow one.  One little orange one.  Most elegant vomit ever.