At our old deer camp dad called it "hair of the boot". He would go to bed with a beer and put it in one of the boots he just took off. When he woke up, ugh, gross.
Never could do hair of the dog. I'm much wiser these days when having drinks but I hit 40 the other week and went out with some guys from work and I fell off the wagon big time. There's a reason I only drink socially.