I had to call animal control last night. I hated to do it, but the neighbor's dog, Diablo, was in our driveway beside the van, and when Sprout went outside to play, he started barking, growling, and snapping at her, inches from her face. She screamed bloody murder - it sounded like there was a horror movie happening outside our garage - because HE may have thought he was playing, but SHE thought he was going to eat her face.
Doubly upsetting is that he really is a big old baby, afraid of anything loud (lawn equipment, thunder, fireworks) and none of his humans seem to care a fiddler's fart for his well being. Worse, the adult male of the household is a law enforcement officer!
Someone had to chase the dog down the driveway and into the cul-de-sac, and Sprout sobbed on my shoulder - she doesn't understand why the dog that gives her kisses and cowers against her when there's thunder would suddenly turn Cujo on her. She doesn't understand that sometimes he may get surprised or frightened, or maybe he thinks he's being playful - to a three-and-a-half-year-old, he's a huge black dog that is, without warning, a monster.
Animal Control does not work on Sundays here in Redneck Central. They forgot to mention that to the animals... This morning, we had a call from one of their officers, who left a message telling us that the dog's owner has been spoken to and the dog will be contained. I am not holding my breath, but hope springs eternal. I really don't want to be party to punishing a dog for being...well...a dog.
I'd much rather be permitted to shoot his human in the ass with the pellet gun.