September 22, 2007 — Restaurants are always an adventure with Truman, because if I don’t do good enough under-the-table recon, there is potential for great mess making. It’s happened before: the apparently delicious puddle of syrup I didn’t see against the dark pattern of the carpet, the gum I completely missed until it was so embedded that I had to do hair surgery….
But this was quite a successful outing, despite the challenges inherent in an outdoor venue like the patio of the Omelette Parlor. Namely, birds and bird by-products.
Truman is quite the avian enthusiast around our neighborhood, typically going out of his way to acknowledge our feathered friends, greet them, and very thoughtfully alert me to their presence so that I may enjoy them as well. And there were plenty of birds on the patio this post-thunderstorm morning, having emerged from their rainy day hideaways in search of carelessly dropped breakfast tidbits. However, the boy was quite well behaved! He spotted them from his place on the brick floor beneath the table; he watched them, but he did not move.
When it rains, poor Truman is mostly relegated to my apartment because there’s no suitably dry place for him to play outside, and this thunderstorm had given him quite a case of cabin fever. So, after exercising such remarkable restraint at the restaurant, I thought he deserved a little stroll down Main Street. So we window-shopped and people-watched and did our best to avoid other folks with dogs. Not too shabby! He pulled at the leash a bit, but was mostly cooperative, even for a couple of photos (though there is a limit to his patience).
“I will pose for your stupid artsy photo, but I will NOT be happy about it.”