It's easy to make a mistake when sleepy. I posted a response quite some time ago in which I told the story of how I very nearly shot my roommate. I don't think my response was unjustified, but still... By the way, I will freely admit that I have a bias against Pit Bulls. I do not, however, have a bias against Rottweilers. The best dog I ever owned was a 100lb Rottweiler mix that was the nicest, sweetest dog in the world under normal circumstances, but a flat out mean bastard if he felt that I was being threatened. He once bit a homeless guy square on the bum when I was walking him in downtown Denver at about 2 in the morning. The guy sort of lunged out at me from behind a dumpster, and good ol' Jake didn't like that, so he chomped him but good. I figured the guy got his just desserts, so I just kept on keeping on. About 15 minutes later, we came across another homeless guy that Jake knew somehow, and ol' Jake just walked right up to get petted. Interestingly, my neighborhood was actually pretty serene despite the fact that I lived a block from the capitol (16th and Grant for those in the know), and my schedule at the time meant that I had to walk him at night most of the time. I lived near a homeless shelter called "Shelter for the Workingman" or something along those lines, and those guys would frequently come out en masse to play with Jake, which was fine with me. I also frequently encountered street guys. Most were OK, and a few were really nice guys. Drunks, but nice. There were three in particular that were always hanging out together that I called "The Three Wisemen" that used to just love when I would walk Jake. They always produced treats for him, and it just made them happy that my big ol' dog would walk up to them and do tricks and stuff for them, and they REALLY liked it when a squirrel was around, because he would stalk it. Sadly, one of the three wiseman died one cold night because he was too drunk to get somewhere warm. I will always remember how happy my boy made those guys. Sadly for me, I was going through a very, very, very tough period in my own life at the time, and circumstances led to me having to take Jake back to the shelter that I got him at (and in fact worked at. I got him when I worked there, and I took him back after I had moved on) and he was put to sleep. I adopted him when he was about seven years old, and I had to give him back when he was eight. I am not ashamed to admit that I am actually crying as I write this, because he was a good dog, a great buddy and was literally the only bright spot I had in 2000. That was a bad, bad year man....