Me: “Go potty.”
Dog: (stares at me, as if to say, huh?).
Me: “Go Potty.”
Dog: (Rrreeetttcccchh! Vomits his entire dinner on the lawn. Looks back at me, wags tail timidly, as if to say, Is it okay that I did that?).
Dog: (Perks up, takes two steps towards the hosue as though his job is done and he can return to his bed. Has not yet gone potty. When he finally goes, I swear it is at least several quarts and I have no clue where all that water came from or, more importantly, why he needed to be asked to go potty).