Twice in one week

Shazzam! 2 blog posts in a month!
Okay, that's not really "shooting for the stars," but I'll take what I can get around here.
Anyone who has read this blog or spent .2 seconds talking to me in real life knows that I love my dog. Possibly to a ridiculous level. But there are definitely things--essential dog skills, maybe--that he is lacking, one of which concerns me today.
Yesterday I was home by myself, doing my thing, in the middle of the day. In fact, I was cleaning dishes in the kitchen like the Stay at Home Housewife that I am right now. Sullivan was lying by the front door, as per usual. We have a glass hurricane door (I think that is the proper terminology, although I'm not sure what good that wimpy door would do you in the midst of a hurricane) and he likes to gaze outside and keep apprised of the neighborhood happenings. Watching our across the street neighbors back their cars in and out of the driveway is of especial enjoyment to him. Anyways, I happen to look up from the kitchen and notice out the dining room windows that someone is walking away from the house. I get a little jumpy when I'm home alone--I'm not exactly built for self defense these days--so after my heart started beating again I realized that it was a)just the mail woman and b)she had left a package on the porch.
Wait a minute.
She dropped a package on the porch, three inches or so from Sullivan's big nose, and HE DIDN'T MAKE A SOUND?? What kind of worthless guard animal is this? He did make the effort of sitting up, but good grief dog?! How about some of that barking that you like to do at your food bowl or when we aren't johnny on the spot at the back door to let you in?
I will say this for Sullivan though, he is consistent. The exact same scenario happened today--only this time with a completely random, door to door windshield replacing salesman who scared the junk out of me when I looked up and saw him standing in the doorway, again inches from my ferocious beast of a dog.
All of you blog reader (s) will be glad to know that the wooden door is now securely shut and locked, and Sullivan is resting up on the couch from an exhausting few days of observing strangers coming up to our home.
Gone are my visions of being protected while at home with the baby, unless we can somehow figure out how to trick Sullivan into equating strangers with the strange things he actually does bark at...