Update – dog~NOT~gone
Call me spineless, but I just couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t part with the menace in my backyard, the object of so much guilt, the bane of my husband’s existence.
So. . .
I took action.
I took him to the groomers -he was very frightened and they called me fifteen minutes after I left to come and get him -so that he didn’t hurt himself. They said he was a good candidate for vet-induced sedation for a hair cut. -Geesh! (The dog is named after Porter Rockwell, who didn’t like his haircut either.)
I bought my own de-matter comb and went to work on that dog-boy’s hair. He is looking much better -except for that one really matted spot that will not come off and now sticks straight out in a single dreadlock. Of course, it will be considered a new fashion statement and start showing up on dogs everywhere.
Tomorrow he has an appointment with the vet to take away his doggie manhood. This supposedly will calm him down. -We’ll see. . .
His manners are improving and he has stopped jumping on people. Almost. He doesn’t jump on me, anyway. (At least he won’t be jumping on anyone tomorrow. Heh, heh. Poor poochie.)
In two weeks we will start obedience classes. I have taught Porter to sit. Which he can do now as soon as he sees the baggie of treats. I don’t even have to say the command. He is pretty smart. 
I may even try housebreaking him. Eventually. . . maybe.
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