Holy fucking shit - a Christmas miracle!

Yes, the language is excessive. But the tale is incredible...

So I wake up this morning at 6am to the sounds of Banjo barfing next to the bed. Next thing I know, he is racing around the bedroom, over and over our bed. Then I hear this 'plop' and the end of the bed, and some shakes. I get up to see Banjo on his side, legs flailing violenty with is his mouth wide open. I think he's choking, so I stick my hand in to remove the obstruction. I think I feel something, but I can't seem to get it out. Banjo is still flailing in obvious pain. I start to freak out, so I run down the hallway and burst into Matt's room. I tell him that Banjo is choking, and that he should call the 24 hour pet ER for me. But the time I get back to Banjo, he his mouth is closed, his breathing is a little labored, and he's still on this side. It seems like the is slowly working whatever is choking him down his throat. He is still struggling, but I think he's doing OK.
But then all of a sudden the stops moving. He's completely still, on his side. I shake try to shake him to see if he'll move. No luck. I stare in disbelief. Then I try and shake him again. Still, absolutely no movement. His feet are kind of stuck out to the side of him in a weird position that I've never seen before. An unnatural position.
Then the thought comes to me, "Holy shit, Banjo is dead." I start yelling and moaning, and I toss our bed across the room. I start thinking about how I'm going to miss him, about how Emily's going to take it, and about what the heck you do with a dead dog. Then as I get up from the ground (because I was wollowing on my knees), it seems like Banjo's head moved a bit. I wait a little longer, and suddenly the 'dood jumps up, good as new. I can hardly believe it. Just moments earlier I thought I had lost poor Banjo, and now he seems fine. I can't tell you how happy I felt right then!
After I look at Banjo to see if he's OK, I call up the pet ER to tell them what happened. Then I take a shower and take Banjo to have a vet look at him. The vet said his heart rate was perfect, he had a strong pulse, and his color was good. She also said that he could have had a seizure, or that he could have fainted from the vomiting. I still had a suspition that he had choked on something (b/c I really did feel something rigtht when I woke up. But it was 6am, my mind was racing and my heart was pounding - not neccesarily in the best of conditions to observe my suroundings) so Banjo gets an x-ray. Nothing there, just a lot of stool. So I put Banjo in the back of the car and take him to work, where I check on him every few hours.
This is probably the most frightening experience of my entire life. I don't know what I would have done if I would have lost Banjo. Maybe we should change his name to Lazirous.