Call Me RAMBO!!!!

I went to work last night and stayed from about 8 to 12. I was really tired by the time I got home and promptly passed out into a deep sleep. All the sudden, at 3:30 AM, our pit bull, Dakota, goes berserk in the living room. This is not like I'm playing while I should be sleeping barking, this is I'm going to eat this person coming in the house barking. I come out of bed like a rocket and immediately go into John Rambo kill or be killed mode. Angela calmly wakes up and goes "the dog had a bad dream". Uneducated woman, that was our fierce canine telling us she needs help defending our home. I grab my pistol and go sprinting toward the door in my boxers ready to take out whatever evil forces from the Taliban are obviously invading my home. As I stand by the bedroom door, anticipating the tuck and roll I'm gonna have to perform since the guns will start blazing as soon as the door opens, Angela puts her robe on and comes up behind me with an irritated look on her face. I swing the door open, hit the lights and immediately begin finding the perpetrator that can only be Hitler, Bin Laden, and Spencer Pratt all rolled into one. Angela walks over, puts the dog back in its bed, and tells me to go back to bed. My vicious attack dog woke me up and made me go SWAT team through my house because it had a bad dream. So any of my neighbors who saw me running around my house flipping all the lights on holding a gun in my underwear in the middle of the night, don't be alarmed...But remember, I have the camouflage paint ready in my nightstand complete with Rambo headband. So would-be assassins and ninjas beware.