Growing up I had a dog that would eat anything. ANYTHING. He was a shop dog and lived with a few other dogs in my fathers shop (they came home on occasion). He would lick the stainless steel chips out of the milling machine trough and his poop would sparkle in the sun. He enjoyed chewing on razor sharp contiguous spiral steel chips from a stainless job we ran on a lathe. Loved eating leather work gloves, and chewing up buffing wheels and the buffing wax. He would find stray cat poops in the yard and merrily chew and play with them. Eat a dead squirrel carcass and stink like it for a day? no problem! Unclog the toilet and lick the poop off the plunger? Delish! My mother bought in the remains of a chicken dinner and he got a hold of the whole chicken skeleton when no one was looking and ate the thing in under 2 minutes, bones and all. He also once got into a bag of little balloons and was pooping out rainbows. He would let himself out (sneak out) and roam the neighborhood once eating the groceries of a neighbor who set them down on the porch to unlock her door. Never had to go to the vet for eating anything. He was a Shepard mix and died at 16 and a half. That dogs stomach was stronger than anything in that shop, truly a shop dog worthy of the title.

What didn't he eat? Anything you'd put Sweet and sour sauce on. Found that out after trying to give him leftover burger king nuggets. The one thing the dog wouldn't eat was actually something delicious. Probably the vinegar.