It's more a dog's demeanor than its size that can scare me.

When we first moved to the house we now live in, the golden retriever directly accross the street would start barking ferociously and *charging* at me when I would go out to our mail box in front of our house. It almost stopped my heart until I figured out the *routine*. Roxie was playing *protect my home against the evil intruder. I was to play the part of evil intruder. When she would get to me at the mail box she would jump up on me and *bite* me on the arm. The bite was never a real bite. All the time she would be doing this growl. I walked back to the house with this dog hanging on my arm, my own dogs going nuts in the house. Roxie played this game until she became very old. I would always worry about her running in front of a car as she crossed the street in her running charge. In reality she was the sweetest dog on earth. I always wanted to *play the game* to her fondest wishes, where I would fall to the ground and she could stand over me in triumphant victory, but as her part looked so realistic, I never did for fear of scaring some casual observer. Roxie went to the Rainbow Bridge late last year and I dearly missed being *ferociously attacked*.