Battle Zone

If love is a battlefield, my apartment is cupid's penthouse—not quite! Imagine living in a 400-square-foot space—bed in the living room and bedroom converted into an office where two people work from home—with three pit bulls.

It's close quarters here, but people—and dogs—are adaptable creatures. Our needs are met and all is harmonious unless Ben is home. Brenda might just have a craving for his flesh.

I'm the gatekeeper and Brenda is my gargoyle. Ben asks for an escort when he has to pass her. I usually oblige immediately unless I’m in the middle of an interview for a story. The other option is for Ben to carry a plastic baby gate in front of his legs for protection. I’m sure he feels like a prisoner in his own apartment.

Neither of us likes to see Brenda muzzled, crated or tethered, but sometimes it’s necessary for Ben to have free range. Regardless, the constant state of anxiety over Brenda’s next snarling, growling, barking fit of rage is diminishing with careful management.