The moment went something like this:
Me: Happily chirping away on the phone to the editor of Key To Philadelphia.
A loud bang interrupts my conversation and I peak over to see what fell - nothing. I continue with my chatting.
Jules: Arf. Arf Arf Arf [followed my 30 more seconds of loud barking].
Me: What the hell?? Sorry, Ron, my dog seems to be freaking out about something. Hold on.
I venture into the kitchen where Jules is in her pounce mode - her tiny ass sticking straight up in the air, tiny tail erect, jumping back and forth and barking. At what? I peek behind a corner. There, lying sprawled on the floor is the red fire extinguisher that she managed to knock over, the cause of the loud bang, and with its scary hose, it must have looked like a monster to her. A monster that would come after her and attack her. Clearly she had to give it a piece of her mind. I right the extinguisher and place it back in its corner. Jules finally stops her bark fest and gives it one last Look and turns to follow me out of the room.
This has happened not only with the fire extinguisher but also with the broom, mop and vacuum. Anything large (most things are larger than she), that can potentially move (either because I sweep, mop or vacuum or because she knocks it over and in her head, it moved) or make a strange noise - these objects come out of nowhere to spook her and after days of silence, she finds her voice and barks ferociously at these objects.