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So I read “Golden Retrievals” by Mark Doty: “A Zen master’s bronzy gong, calls you here,/ entirely, now: bow-wow, bow-wow, bow-wow.”

Those who vote yea on the farm bill deserve rose petals at their feet and a sustained Bravo! — and maybe a bow-wow here and a meow-meow there.

They also nod to a recent theory about the origin of language in animal sounds that Carroll's friend, the philologist Max Müller, scorned as 'the bow-wow theory':

Canine drama Max, another new release, made its bow-wow in fourth place.

If Pollard won the hundred-grander, Yummy promised to sneak him a swig of bow-wow wine in the winner’s circle.