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I'm pretty sure I know what's making Otis blue

There's a rottweiler who lives down the street from us. I've taken to nicknaming him Otis. It just seems to suit him. He's a young dog, probably only about 6-8 months or so, but very, very large. Anyway, Otis doesn't lead much of a life. I've never seen his owners walk him. I've never even seen his owners, actually. He spends his days chained to the front porch of their half of a duplex. The porch is about 1 metre square (9 sq. ft.), and his chain is about 6 feet long, allowing him to get off the porch just enough to reach the sidewalk, but no more. This area is covered with a thick layer of Otis' feces and urine-soaked snow. His owners never clean it up.
When Dexter and I first saw Otis, he came out from the porch wagging his stumpy little tail, and sniffing and whining curiously. Now when we walk past him, he stays on the porch, his hackles go up, and he growls.
I reported Otis to the Petawawa Humane Society. They don't answer their phones, so I left a detailed message with my name and number and where Otis lives. They've never called me back. Otis' confinement area is still covered with his own filth. He's getting bigger every day, and less trusting of the people walking past his domain every day. This is likely what his owners want. A big, mean, tough-guy dog to scare people away from their crappy stuff. Some day, Otis is going to snap and bite someone or some animal, and then suddenly the Humane Society and police will take an interest. His owners will defend him in a half-assed manner, but Otis will likely be carted away and put down. You see, in Ontario, rottweilers, pit bulls, bull terriers, even boxers, fall under the new One Strike and They're Out Law. And then his owners will go out and find another puppy to neglect and mistreat.
All I can do is keep calling the Humane Society to see if they're doing anything.