Anyone pulling into the driveway gets barked at of course. That's his job. But now it's little things, like the kitchen stove timer going off. (OK so he's not used to me cooking...) Gunshoots or fireworks outside will wind him up, and when the power flickers out for a second or two (happens two or three times a week) he goes bonkers over that, too. And every time something sets him to barking he runs right to me and stands by me as if he's waiting to defend me against whatever made that noise. And if I don't appear excited, he'll often bark at me too, just to make me aware of the impending attack that he seems to be expecting.
He was never like this before I got hurt. In fact he usually did his own thing all day unless I called him. But now he's my second shadow and is seldom more than a few feet from me.
Granted it's nice to have a well-meaning protector that can chomp tennis balls in half and bite holes in basketballs. Now if I could just teach him to do the laundry and run the vacuum.
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