Barking mad...

Last night I lay in bed reading a bit before giving myself over to the gentle knitting needles of sleep to mend that ravelled bits of me. In the background I could hear the incessant barking of some or other dog, but did not pay too much attention to it.
Let's face it, I live in an area that was a suburb close to the centre of Dog-central, where every Tom, Dick and Harry owns a Spot, Rex or Killer.
However, I do take exception when these bundles of furry and toothed joy carry on barking mindlessly for hours on end. For crumbs sake people! Why do you own a dog if you are going to let it carry on barking forever and a day without actually investigating the cause?
Anyhoo. Deciding to take the zen approach, I turned off my light and pretended it was the gentle laughter of water rushing over stones. With a pillow over my head it eventually worked, and I was off to dreamland.
But not for long... every so often I would be dragged from my sleep by the, yes, STILL persisting barking. My gosh; if it were my canine by this time I would've had the police, fire and rescue departments standing by just in case of any type of emergency that the dog was somehow insisting was happening.
Instead I ended up staring at the ceiling, composing the speech I would give at this dog's prize-giving ceremony. Trust me, for pure duration this barking was olympic medal material! And then the variation in volume, length and intensity; it was the perfect blend to pull any insistent sleeper from the brink of oblivion!
And every so often the rest of the neighbourhood dogs would join in out of what I guess must've been sheer admiration.
It's at times like these that I seriously contemplate getting a paintball gun and learning how to do urban-stalking, camouflage paint and all. If I can't get at the dog, then at least I'll be able to target whatever's causing the upset.
And then I'd go for the owner...