And he/she is a jerk.
The breed is Boxer with something else. At least I think it’s Boxer. I’m bad with dog breeds and tend to lump them together into more easily definable categories. My first encounter with the dog was fine, comical even, as I was taking my dog out to the bathroom and the neighbor’s dog seemed a little bashful at first warming quickly toward playful. My dog Jenkins is typically aloof, happier to spend his time at the dog park hanging out with humans over his kind, and as such, sniffed at Neighbor Dog for a few seconds before moseying off to do his thing. Nothing more. End of encounter.
Neighbor Dog lives on the first floor with one of the bedroom windows facing the grassy area most of the dogs gather to relieve themselves. Every time I take Jenkins past that window, it’s like a lion freaking out having seen a piece of meat. Neighbor Dog’s sudden need to maul feels so heavy there are times I’m concerned a simple sheet of glass will do nothing to sake the ire. I’m not sure what prompted the change – did Jenkins ignoring them set off some already faulting wire? – but the result is less-than-necessary. I often put myself between the two while Jenkins again does his thing, still unconcerned, me staring into the agitated black eyes of the beast while it salivates. I saw a video of a Norse man confronting a charging moose, and though not entirely similar, I like to think my braveness level in this is creeping even.
I don’t know what would happen should the two meet again. It’s strange to me how nice the neighbors seem too. They have two boys. Perhaps Neighbor Dog is concerned the other dogs are looking to mug them, I don’t know. I tend to wrongly approach every dog as though they love me and want only my attention and affection. But not Neighbor Dog.
Neighbor Dog is a jerk.