Anatomy of a Bark

I am the author today on Scout’s blog to give my perspective on when our girl started barking.

Scout did not bark for the first nine months of her life. We were amazed by her silence. Even as a puppy, she was a very quiet dog. She did a little whimpering her first night with us in her crate, but once she figured out the “rules,” we didn’t hear another sound until her excited noises came loud and clear before release.

At the onset of her barking, many events collided in our lives as a family. We moved from a condo to a house in my second trimester of my first pregnancy. We opted for an electronic fence to keep Scout safe in our yard, as the street can be used as a cross-through. So, new house, new yard, new perimeter that could not be broken and a little bambino on the way to protect.

The first time I remember her barking was after I brought our newborn home. There was lots of traffic: people, cars, packages, the poor UPS man… I remember thinking, “Who is this dog?” I was so tired, you might have convinced me that she was an impostor. We eventually figured out the collision of events above might be the cause.

Or she was simply just old enough to find her bark.

Scout still doesn’t bark often. She is mostly a silent communicator – her body language speaks loud and clear. She sets herself up right in front of you and stares you down with those golden eyes. And she only does this when her need is great… food, water, doing some business.

But when she barks, she is one scary hairball. I appreciate her protection when I’m home alone or just with the boys. Scout’s deep, throaty bark is something to behold from such a sweet girl.

And I know he probably doesn’t read this blog, but I’m sending out a big apology to our UPS man. Somewhere, somehow he knows that she’s just doing her job.