Maximum Security

I really hate my pets right now.
As Paul pulled in the driveway at about a quarter to 8 this morning, and we wrapped up our I'm-tired-and-need-to-talk-to-someone-so-I-don't-fall-asleep-while-driving-home-from-work conversation, he let out this weird groaning growl. I was like.... "Okay?"
"There's four watermelons laying in the yard."

The four, plus the one I found yesterday. And they are no where near being ripe! The big one is even bigger than a football - how he picked it up is beyond me! (And no, he did not pile them up like this on his own.)

AAARGH!!!
I was really hoping to avoid this this year. Last year we harvested all of 6 watermelon off of 3 hills (2-3 plants per hill). The stupid dog ate all the rest.
But at least last year he ate them! So far this year he took a hunk out of two of them, but the rest he just brought up in the yard! And what I can't figure out about last year is that the watermelon have no smell - not that I could smell at least, and I have a rather particular sniffer. Yet the canteloupe, which you could smell from the driveway, he never even bothered!
Moronic mutt.
So we hastily put up this protective barrier around our watermelon. The cukes and squash just are along for the ride.
He's stealing the sweet corn, too. We really would have liked to fence it in as well, but we didn't have enough panels out in the shed (there were a few useful things in the piles of crap previous owners left here). And we figured we've only got about a week until it's ready, whereas the watermelon are just starting to put on. So we'll see what's left in a week.
Then as I was fixing breakfast (we worked up an appetite), I glanced outside and I see a dead kitten on the deck that the dog apparently killed. (The slobber on it was kind of a give away as to what killed it.)
Then to top it all off, as I was hanging clothes this afternoon, I got a whiff of something.
Something vile.
The dog has been sprayed by a skunk.
Wonderful.
Moving on to the other pet: Brutus has been peeing in any box or basket I leave on the back porch. This includes laundry baskets full of clean clothes. The obvious answer would be: don't put any boxes or baskets out there. Hey - it's a back porch! And a laundry room! And he's freaking fixed and litter box trained, so why the deuce is he doing this anyways?!?!?
I had told Paul, "Next time he pees on something, he's becoming an outdoor cat."
And I found the most recent puddle this morning. There was a small box on the dryer that I had taken off a shelf while cleaning. I draped some stockings, undergarments, and a table runner over it to dry last time I did laundry. Guess what got christened?
I told Paul I was going to follow through with my threat. And he said, "Well, I haven't cleaned the litterbox. Maybe that's it."
So he emptied the litterbox. I'll give the cat one more chance. But he's such a jerk to Nathan, I'm sick of him, and I'm ready for him to be out of the house.
And then, as if to tell us just what he thought of us, as soon as Paul put the fresh litter in, Brutus went on the back porch to desecrate it. I came out later, and find that he has laid a HUGE turd on the mat in front of the entrance of the box. Not just outside the opening, like he misjudged a squat, but completely on the furtherest edge away from the box..... As close as he could get to the floor without actually being on the floor, and thus ensuring that he will not only be outside, but he may also end up permanently crippled.
Ulgh. What do you think? Kick him out? Or give him another chance?
And just think.... I needed a housecat four years ago. And he was a great cat for two years. What has he become???