He kept the dogs on chains in his yard, and hung human shaped dummies on ropes with pulleys that he used to make the dummies "attack" the dogs.
Guy was about what you'd expect, dirty biker with a yard full of beer cans and liquor bottles. I used to make regular service calls at his shack of a house and those dogs scared the piss out of me. He'd get those dummies flying in at the dogs and they would go nuts, jumping up and clamping onto them while he laughed and shouted "get'em".
He'd have parties with his biker buddies (they had patches and colors, like a gang). They'd build a bonfire in their yard and drink and blast loud music and you could hear those dogs barking in a frenzy from a mile away.
He had a sad-looking, emaciated wife (I never heard her speak a word) and a gun collection he was very proud of.
I don't know how many dogs he kept chained up there, but I always believed that if they got lose somebody was going to get killed.
I think it is the same mentality of men wanting the meanest, scariest guns that want the meanest, scariest dogs.