Our beloved family dog of 14 years, Good Dog Percy, passed away last year in October of 2008. Knowing our extreme sadness, Santa Claus surprised us on Christmas morning with a cute and cuddly little beagle puppy. Our family was delighted. We named him Camp.

Happy little puppy yelps filled our home during the holiday season as he bounded around nipping at the kids heels. My thoughts drifted to the movie “My Dog Skip” where a boy and his dog share a wonderful life long relationship. I envisioned that type of relationship developing for my kids and their sweet little puppy.

Well that’s not going to happen.

It appears Camp has issues. He is incredibly obstinate, has tremendous separation anxiety and is about as mindful as the brats you see featured on the television show “The Super Nanny.”

He barks, no bays, insanely loudly just at the moment our 5 month old is going down for his nap, chasses anything and everything straight into oncoming traffic, has chewed up our screen door, a million pacifiers, multiple toys, and the walls of our garage. He routinely poops on the sidewalk, chases kids on the playground and has sneaked into our next-door neighbors house on multiple occasions and devoured a plate of bacon and eggs off the kitchen table and a brisket from the counter.

Now I can excuse most of Camp’s behavior and actually find some of it quite amusing, he is a dog.

But after almost a full year of being in our family, the thing that I just can’t get over:

HE WONT QUIT WHIZZING ON THE FLOOR DURING THE NIGHT!

I let him out at midnight to do his business and still wake up to an ocean by the front door. It’s about to drive me crazy. Good Dog Percy could drink a bathtub full of water and hold it for a week without so much as a whimper. I think he is doing it to spite me. My wife says I should work on bonding with him but I’m not so sure.

Is there such a thing as the Anti-Claus? A benevolent creature that comes to your house in the middle of the night and takes back the presents that just don’t work out.

I might just be in a bad mood on account of I pulled a muscle in my back last night putting up the Christmas tree. But I’m telling you that little SOB better watch out or he’s going to find himself with a one way ticket on the Anti-Claus’s sleigh (or whatever the hell he drives) straight to the Island of Misfit Toys!