Guard dogs come in unsual styles

No, that?s not too bad.

But when the dividers in a nearby dormitory bathroom disappeared a few days ago, I seriously began to consider my own security.

I have taken into consideration several options that would make me feel safer throughout this rash of thefts.

(This is a lot better than a theft of rashes, although I could see how some would just be itching to get a few.)

On the bottom of my list is a dog.

Some people put a lot of trust in their dog when it comes to home security, but I have yet to see a good example of a guard dog.

Here I am referring to two dogs I know named Snoopy and Mocha.

Snoopy is a golden retriever who is, by my estimates, approximately 2,700 years old in dog years. He is more of an accent piece to the kitchen than a pet, as he never actually moves.

Mocha is a shitzapoo (don?t think about it too hard). She is only a few months old and uses Snoopy as a trampoline.

Snoopy is the main guard dog and Mocha is the small, backup dog.

Yet, I have never seen any indication that either Snoopy or Mocha is personally aware of what their job is. I think it?s time someone set them straight.

Snoopy seems to think that his occupation at the house is Stationary Object on the Rug. He sleeps by the back door and occasionally emits offensive odors.

While an effective guard dog would bark and bare its teeth when a person enters from outside, Snoopy rarely even makes an effort to move so that the door can be opened. He does, however, sniff anything around him that moves, just in case it may be food.

If he thinks it is, he will bite it. If it bites back, it?s Mocha.

Mocha, on the other hand, does respond to strangers in the house; Mocha just LOVES strangers.

Her plan of action is to run to the front door, fling herself to the stranger full throttle and then bounce back because the glass door is still closed.

Once the stranger is in the house, Mocha will make the Wee-Wee of Joy on the stranger?s shoes.

Her excitement lasts for about a minute, after which she returns to her normal daily routine of running up the stairs and dragging down underwear.

This is hardly an effective defense against the Devious Bad Guy who Lurks Outside of the House.

My family?s dog, Slippers, is overly aware of the Devious Bad Guy who Lurks Outside of the House.

No matter how loud she barks out the front window, the Bad Guy never quits allowing cars to drive in front of the house, delivering mail, walking dogs on the other side of the street or blowing leaves across the front lawn.

Every day, Slippers is foiled by the Bad Guy. But at least she tries, which is much more than I can say for Snoopy or Mocha.

For example, their house was recently invaded by a man who came to inspect a leak on the roof.

First he tripped over Snoopy, who was too busy sniffing to move, and then he tripped over Mocha, who was jumping on his leg as if to say, ?lookatmelookatmelookatme.?

But once he left the room, things quieted down. If that would have been a test, Snoopy and Mocha would have failed miserably. Slippers, on the other hand, would have still been barking long after the man had left.

I?ve given this a little thought, and I do think that Snoopy and Mocha?s tactics, as unconventional as they are, may actually work.

If a thief ever tried to break their house, he would trip over Snoopy, fall, and then Mocha would make the Wee-Wee of Joy on him.

However, I?m still not convinced. I think the best defense I have for avoiding thefts is to just not own a bicycle.

And maybe get a guard python.