I threw a bucket of water on those dogs again this morning. They were barking, or at least the one was. They have been starting at 6:45 AM for several days. Their bark volume is exactly high enough to still be audible over every fan in the house turned up to the maximum setting and placed in my bedroom, along with the loud guttural motor from the bathroom blower. The next move is to turn on the AC on “fan” mode so no cold air is blowing from it. In total this creates about the same amount of white noise as standing next to a jet engine. And still, still, you can hear the fucking dog: bark bark bark, bark bark bark.
So I got up this morning and filled a five gallon bucket with cold water and went to the bottom of my driveway and listened directionally so I could tell which of the 12,000 unruly dogs on my block was the one doing the barking. I surmised that it was the border collie two houses down who either stands on his high porch bark bark barking or, if a person is walking by, runs down the stairs with his little white terrier friend and maniacally circles over and over again while bark bark barking and occasionally trying to bite through the gate. I stood in front of his house; he and his buddy came down, and I dumped the water on them.
And it did nothing. Nothing. The one time in the past I have done this, the dogs were immediately cowed and silent and ran back terrified to the house. So I have always held it in the back of my mind as a kind of nuclear trump card to deploy that would take care of the problem if I had ever been to bed late and had a rough day lined up at work. But no. They took the water to the face and kept on bark bark barking. They have toughened up. They have learned that the water does not hurt them, that it’s only a quick initial shock even on a cold morning and it should not deter them from barking their heads off the instant I show up and then long after I’m gone. I’m going to have to plant claymores in a deer carcass now.