When I lived in my old house, different town, I came home one day to discover after entering my porch that the heavy wooden door to the house was open. A delinquent boy on our block confronted me that my dog, a yellow lab bitch, had bitten him. He showed me his hand. It had teeth marks on it.
So I put two and two together and said, "How could that have happened? My dog is a house dog. Let me tell you what happened, and you correct me if I'm wrong. You came to my house and entered the porch while I was gone. My dog was in the porch, wasn't she."
He nodded.
"And she got between you and the house door, didn't she."
He nodded slowly.
"And she was barking, sort of with her head over her shoulder, wasn't she."
Still nodding.
"She was telling anyone who might be upstairs or coming in the back that someone had entered the porch. So, no one home, so you decided to enter the house in spite of her barking. You went to turn the knob, didn't you. And that's when she bit you."
Nodded some more.
"She wasn't biting you so much as preventing you from entering. Now go home, before I call the cops and tell them you tried to break in while I was gone."
... I could see it all plain as day, even though I wasn't there when it happened.