interesting topic.
Here's a little story to make you think. Takes a while to tell, so sit back and enjoy...
Years ago, when I was a young 'un, I was taking some summer classes in auto body repair at a local community college. In the class were some tough biker types going through the course on voc-rehab.
Tough guys, prison tats - one guy was missing an ear from a knife fight.
One summer afternoon I had occasion to give one of them a ride home in my '68 Impala convertible. He lived in a rented farmhouse outside of town - in the middle of a cornfield. Literally, in the freaking middle of a field of corn. Can't see the house and garage and yard from the road.
I pull down the lane and into the front yard, and his 4 black and tan dobermans that had been lounging on the front porch jump up and shoot like missiles to the car.
Two of them are into the open passenger door as he gets out, and two have their paws on the top of the driver door - windows are down as is the ragtop.
As the dogs converge about 3 inches from my face, he calmly says, "Down". Doesn't yell, no screaming (from him) - just a normal tone -"down". The dogs froze in unison. I've never seen anything like it. Then came the next command; "back". They all moseyed calmly (I thought they looked disappointed) back to the porch. These dogs were trained very, very well - by an obvious expert. Now I hear another dog - in a pen - next to the garage across the yard. I ask about it. "Oh, that's my red doberman - I can't get near her to train her".
In the garage - locked by a chain and padlock - behind several layers of stuff - rolls of chicken wire, tarps, all kinds of miscellaneous equipment - is his panhead chopper. It had been stolen once, the frame was found in California, the motor in Denver, and the bike had been re-assembled. He was not going to let the bike be taken again - hence the dogs, garage, etc.
He swore me to secrecy before ever showing me the bike - he knew I was an impressionable kid and wasn't going to cross him.
Two weeks later, he corners me, demanding to know who I told about the bike. I finally convince him that I told no one.
You guessed it. The bike was gone. All 5 dogs were dead. Poisoned hamburger. The back wall of the garage was removed, and the bike was taken.
If they want it - really want it - there is nothing anyone can do to keep it from being taken.
All of the items mentioned above are deterrents - make the thieves look for an easier target.
Best protection honest folks have is insurance. Lots of insurance...