
You shat on the floor, barked at everything that moved outside, made a mad dash outside every time somebody came through the door, jumped on everybody who came into the house when you weren't too busy trying to escape, cried for hours when the company left, were too stupid to realize you were scared of car rides, fought with my cat, fought with the other two dogs, attacked the television every time you saw another dog or horse on it, got jealous of anybody who got even a fraction more attention than you, ate my Legos, ate cat puke whenever the opportunity arose, and hogged the recliner.
I'm going to miss you, Wesley. You little doofus.
(He's the doofus on the left.)