There we were, this dashing Frenchie and I, together for our regular nooner, taking our walk and enjoying the cooler weather.  This handsome boy has a rep around the neighborhood for giving it to anyone he doesn’t like … whether two-legged or four.  He’s not aggressive; he’s just opinionated.  The American writer Mark Twain once said, “It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the dog.”  This little guy definitely fits that!  The street we were on was lined with huge dogs all going nuts, no doubt intimidated by Bruiser’s big personality.  He never failed to bark it back to any of them … until we came to the next to the last house at the end of a long street.  This German Shepherd was going absolutely berserk:  incessantly barking, jumping up and down on its hind legs, and scratching frantically at all the doors.  As we passed I noticed my companion was uncharacteristically quiet and kept looking straight ahead.  The next thing I knew there was a huge “BLAM!” followed by the unmistakable tinkling of shattered glass.  A myriad of shards rained down like glittering diamonds in the noonday sun.  Psycho shepherd had actually busted out the entire front window of his folks’ 1920’s home (ancient by Dallas standards) and it is one of the few times in my life I have ever been truly scared; only the second time ever with an animal.  I have been a professional petsitter for over sixteen years now.  Once I even regularly walked a very aggressive Chow who wound up mauling his own owner!  The guy required surgery.  Anyway, Bruiser and I both quickened our steps and I was worried I would have to scoop him up for fear he would get seriously hurt.  I didn’t relish the thought of getting bitten or ripped to shreds myself.  The shepherd stayed put (thank heaven) and I found myself hoping it wasn’t hurt by the all glass.  Meanwhile the wide-eyed postal carrier was so unglued he skipped delivery to about half the block.  I stifled an unbidden giggle at the thought of the age old battle between dogs and the mail.  And I could only imagine what that poor dog’s parents were going to think when they came home.  So I called the police and left my name and number to let them know they were not robbed.  The 911 dispatcher asked if she should send out officers and I told her, “Don’t worry; the house is safe!”