Dáil Sketch: The latest opinion poll results should have made him a happy man, but it was a grumpy Bertie who endured Leaders' Questions on the first day of his month-long abstinence from pints of Bass.
If this isn't bad enough, suffering is to be piled upon suffering for our heroic Taoiseach.
Just as he begins his annual sacrifice for the Holy Souls, Fianna Fáil's feast of the Unholy Footsoldiers comes along to torment him even further.
Clearly, the party's one-day ardfheis on Saturday weighed heavy on his mind in the Dáil yesterday.
Either that or Bertie was worried about the mystery motorist who managed to keep up with his entourage all day as it sped through Co Westmeath last week.
Mistakenly, we're sure, the Taoiseach declared he saw this reporter in the pursuing vehicle.
There was just one fleeting moment when he may have spotted The Irish Times on the road last Thursday, and that would have been in the rear-view mirror of his Merc as it overtook us. If a vehicle had been keeping up with him all day, it certainly wasn't ours.
Is an unknown motorist trailing him with malicious intent? A worrying development, indeed. Even more worrying is the effect the Government is having on the canine population.
Labour leader Pat Rabbitte had some disturbing information for the Taoiseach: "I met a women in Cork last week who told me that every time Minister Séamus Brennan gives an interview, her dog licks the television set."
"I hope that's all the dog licks," snorted Fine Gael's Bernard Allen, collapsing with laughter.
Deputy Rabbitte was put in mind of this little anecdote after he had asked the Taoiseach if the Government was to publish legislation concerning the money and budgeting service.
Minister for Social and Family Affairs Séamus Brennan, who was sitting seats away from his leader, supplied the answer to him in a loud stage whisper.
"We're not going ahead with it," he told Bertie, from behind his hand.
This sort of carry-on annoys Deputy Rabbitte, who can't resist pointing out when the Taoiseach is being coached on the hoof by his Ministers - an increasingly frequent occurrence.
"I'm delighted that the Minister can be with us" he dripped cattily in the direction of Minister Brennan, before launching into his doggie tale.
Even worried-looking Bertie, who hadn't as much as a wag in him earlier, had to chuckle.
As a red-faced Bernard Durkan rolled around in the wake of his daring quip, Pat ventured some further information from the woman in Cork.
"And every time the Minister for Justice gives an interview, the dog uncontrollably barks."
Judging by the relieved laughter, a lot of deputies had expected to hear that this remarkable dog did something uncontrollable all right at the sound of Michael McDowell's voice, but it wasn't barking.
"What does he do when you come on?" demanded Séamus Brennan, passing up the opportunity to throw in a gratuitous "let the dog see the rabbit". Pat ignored him.
"Does he run around in circles?" persisted Séamus.
Then somebody shouted: "Does he lick the leg off himself?"
Bernard Durkan would have been the man most likely to say this, only he was a deep shade of purple at this stage, and had removed his spectacles to wipe the tears from his eyes with a large white hankie.
We never got to hear what the mutt does when Bertie Ahern is on television.
Maybe he simply sits quietly in awe, wondering how he can copy the Taoiseach's perfect hang-dog expression when next he's caught with his paws in the biscuit tin.
