The Exploding Dog: Your Opinion?

In My Humble Opinion
1

A few doors down from me is a house with a small, fenced-in yard in front. In this yard, they often keep a huge dog, and if any living thing comes anywhere near the fence—be it a squirrel looking for food, a 6-year-ol riding a bike down the street, or a pregnant woman hobbling by with a cane—this dog will explode into the most violent, rabid tirade of barking, growling and teeth-gnashing you could ever imagine. This dog seems to believe that nothing outside of its fence deserves to live, and it wants to be the one to make the kill. When you’re not expecting it, it’s the aural equivalent of being hit by a speeding truck while sitting on a bench in the park reading nursery rythmes—and from time to time, in fact, I’m not expecting it, because I’ve got better things to worry about than a dog with a big chip on its shoulder.

Such was the case recently as I returned home one calm, quiet night at about 11:30. I was enjoying the tranquility, and looking forward to relaxing after a hectic day at work, when the exploding dog exploded once again. Now I really like dogs, but I also believe I should be able to get from my car to my front door without experiencing the onslaught of a cannine IED. It was so jarring this time that instead of hastening away as usual, I just stood there on the sidewalk. I thought I might be able to talk some sense into this exploding dog. “You don’t really want to maul me, do?” I cooed gently. “You’re really a good doggie, aren’t you,” and so on. I persisted in this way, because after all this was a dog, and it might take some time to convince a dog that I wasn’t the enemy. But the more affection I expressed to the creature, the louder and more vitriolic it became.

After about what seemed like half an hour (but what was probably under five minutes), a light went on in the house, and the exploding dog’s owner came out in a bath robe. “He’s such a sweet thing, isn’t he?” I said. She mumbled an expletive, and as she dragged the thing indoors, I said, “See you tomorrow night!”

Now, I don’t actually intend to repeat this friendly encounter, but in any case, was that bad of me?

2

Could be worse.

See or read Edward Albee’s A Zoo Story.

3

The reason the dog is like that (and the reason dogs hate mailman) is because it gets a thrill out of the “chase.” Every time it barks at someone outside his fence, that person ‘runs’ away and the dog is rewarded. So I think you should stand and stare at it each time it barks at you and pretty soon you will not be any fun to him any more. Maybe he will save his energy. Or maybe his owner will keep him inside all the time. You really should set aside 15 minutes a day to just wear the dog (or his owner) down. Don’t walk away until the dog stops barking or else he’ll learn to keep it up as long as it takes. I would probably try carrying a little water gun with me to squirt him in the mouth if it was really bothering me.

4

Not too sure I’d recommend the “staring at the dog” bit. Eye contact is seen as a challenge-threat thing to a dog. If the dog’s aggressively defending territory, staring at it just increases the challenge response.

I have done the stand-stock-still-'till-Rover-quits-woofing bit, on the other side of the fence from said dog. Looking anywhere but directly at Rover’s eyes. Works most of the time.

5

Sounds like a plan. If it doesn’t have an effect on the dog or the owner, you might want to bring along a cell phone and appear to be calling the general police information number, asking them what the rules are about noisy dogs in your city. Hey, you might want to actually call that number. With the dog barking five feet away, of course.

6

There’s a few things that are probably going on:

The dog has associated his fenced-in yard as being his “teritorry.” This area includes anything he can actually see while he’s in the yard. You and anything else that passes are intruders, and hence he feels a need to go with the vicious barking. (One of our neighbors has a Doberman that barks at everything that moves when in the screened porch out back; when it’s outside of that area in the “public area,” he’s well socialized and friendly.)

The dog may or may not be properly socialized to the world outside of its house. The owner obviously thinks he’s perfectly sweet, but is this a result of her socializing the dog (with the exception of when it’s appropriate to go ballistic at a stranger) with others, or her only socializing the dog with people who belong in the house?

Do you know your neighbor well enough to gauge whether the dog has any social manners, or well enough to make a mention of the fact that their dog has some inappropriate behavior while in the yard?

I don’t really think that anything you do may have an effect on the dog’s behavior until the owner reinforces a need for the dog to behave in another manner than it does already.