I was working in the yard one day when my dog ran up. In his mouth was the carcass of some creature, I couldn’t tell what. Whatever it was, it stunk to high heaven!

Apparently this did not phase the dog, he commenced to “dig in” and enjoy this foul feast.

Just about then, my neighbor dropped by and saw what the dog was doing. “You better stop him!” he said.

“Why?” I asked.

“You don’t know what that is, it might kill him!” he exclaimed.

I considered this for a moment, and decided he might be right. So I went over to take “it” away from the dog.

The dog was having none of this. First he growled to keep me away. Then he simply grabbed the mess and ran, just far enough, and started “dining” again. After a few attempts like this, I gave up.

So anyway, after a bit, he had eaten the entire thing and lay down to rest. My neighbor and I, not knowing what else to do, just watched him. All was well for about 10 minutes, when suddenly he started letting out the rankest farts I’ve ever smelled! Both my neighbor and I had to go to the other side of the yard to escape!

Anyway, after a few minutes, the dog, farting almost continuously now, began running around in circles! We didn’t know quite what to make of this, and so just kept watching. About ten to fifteen minutes later, the dog stopped and simply fell over on the ground!

“Is he dead?” asked my neighbor.

I went over to him, and saw he was still breathing and did not seem to be in any distress.

I turned to my neighbor and said, “No, I think he just ran out of gas.”