My dog tells me that Ted is down to less than one year(dog years) so I figure he'll have me in top shape real soon.
When I asked my dog, "If you can't read, how will you know Ted'g grave?" His response was simple.......He sniffed my butt, fetched a life preserver, insisted on driving, poured out a bottle of Glenfiditch for both of us and then drank mine too, took a dump in my docksider boat shoes, sent out an invitation to Christopher Dodd for a meal at a diner(something about humping, a waitress, and a sandwich), and he wags his tail at every windmill he sees.
I figure he knows Ted well enough to scent his dirt nap.