By the time you read this, that dog might be dead. Today, I walked into the living room with the phone in my hand. Bert sauntered up beside me and lifted his leg to pee all over the Christmas tree skirt. I gave him a gentle kick in the ass as I uttered a stream of cuss words worthy of a sailor... and he turned to pee on my leg. I put the phone down and went to the back yard to dig a small dog-shaped hole in the dirt.