I bark to tell the world someone is coming. Or going. Or walking down the street. Or the driveway next door.
Jib barks, too. He barks when people come and go or walk down the street.
He barks when the Tibetan Terror down the block barks. When she barks, Jib can't NOT bark. Her bark does that to him.
Jib also barks to go outside. And to come inside.
Jib barks at squirrels. Jib barks at Zoe. Zoe can't hear him, but he barks at her anyway.
He barks when he wants Mom to feed me. Or throw his Frisbee. Or when he is on the grooming table and Mom forgets to release him.
He barks way more than me.
Mom says she's going to change his name to Vuvuzela.