When I lived at home, we had 5 large dogs and an 8-foot hurricane (chain-link, for you non-Texans) fence around the back yard to dissuade said dogs from jumping the fence. At night, my car would be parked just inside the chained-and-padlocked gate, and my sweet Noodle-baby, some 85 pounds of white German Shepard-Lab mix, would spend the night on the roof of my car. People didn't walk on our side of the street at night, because Noodles took offense.
So, it's New Year's Day, about three in the morning. I'm up, reading, and the dogs start barking frantically; I think they're upset by the still-popping firecrackers. Suddenly, I hear something beating on the back door. At first, I think it's a dog's tail, but then the beating moves around the house, at a height the dogs could not achieve. I look out the bathroom window, and think I see someone. I wake up my parents and call 911.
When the police come, we find that there's a naked, bleeding man laying on the ground between my car and the gate, with my oddly subdued dogs standing around him. Turns out, it was the brother of the owner of the house behind ours. The owner of the house had come home early from New Year's revels and found his wife and his brother doing the horizontal mambo. Owner of the house shot his brother in the buttocks; bleeding brother crawled over the 8-foot fence and worked his way around to the gate, where he collapsed from blood loss and chill (it was ~25 degrees).
The police and ambulance sirens drew out our neighbors, who saw our dogs standing around this man, and assumed they'd attacked him. However, the police told us later that he didn't have one dog bite on his body. But, boy, people left our dogs alone after that!