And I'm not talking about a puddle of pee. I'm talking about an arc of high-velocity streaming dog whiz.
The first couple of times I pet Buster, he got me in the leg. After that I learned to pet him from the side. He doesn't pee as much, except when he gets overly excited.
One day when I was talking to my neighbor Mike (who I've mistakenly been calling Steve for the past two years), Buster broke free of his confining chain and obtained a brief glimmer of freedom. Instead of running into the street to chase cars or sell crack, he decided to run straight to me and start humping my leg.
I picked Buster up, hoping to keep him out of harm's way until his parents came to pick him up. Upon being picked up, Buster got a little "excited." The dog's owner, Penny, and Penny's 4-year-old daughter Kayla, came to get Buster.
I, being shocked that a grown man would say something like that in front of a 4-year-old, turned to face Steve. When I turned, Buster turned with me. A peed right in Steve's face.