You've seen the movies; you know the doberman is a fierce, dangerous dog.
I have an oversized version of this breed. His name is Jack; he's purebred and big as they come, and I don't suppose you'd want to meet him at night in a dark alley.
I thought about that tonight when we ventured out for our night walk, with only the porch light for a guide as we travelled down the long driveway between the large trees that envelop these spaces in such impenetrable black; I could discern Big Jack's presence only by the sound of his breathing. Yes indeed, I told myself, you'd have to be in this mean dog's good graces, as I am, to navigate such darkness with him; I was indeed a safe and well-protected woman, wasn't I?
When we turned back toward the porch, I noticed my husband hadn't closed the garage door. I figured the dog was heeling beside me as I walked into that even darker space and carefully felt my way past the cars to the stairs that would take me up to the button that closes the door. Then I realized I didn't hear my dog beside me.
I looked out to the faint pool of light from the porch and saw that Jack had backed away as I entered the dark garage. He was sneaking as quietly as possible to the safety of the front door, where he could tap on the door with his paw and my husband would let him in to his safe haven.
He had left me to the dangers of that darkness and whatever fears he perceived there.
Yep, a doberman is truly a fierce, dangerous beast. You should have one.
R.A.T. (Rose About Town)can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org. If the big dog barks, back off.