Category Archives: TRUMAN

October 1, 2007 — No, I’m not talking about his Halloween costume…you’ll hear about that soon enough.

Truman’s first “fun” kennel stay (i.e., no neutering, no “procedures,” no poking or sticking or snipping), was a great success. The little man spent five rambunctious days and nights at Camp GDA while I was in Minnesota for a conference. He probably ran and shuffled and tussled and wrestled and wagged and flipped and flung himself about as much as he possibly could, because as you may discern from this photo, he was pretty sacked out when I got him home.

For about a day, that is. Truman’s batteries recharge quickly.

But the best news of all is that his evaluation went incredibly well! I admit I uttered a quick prayer before opening the envelope with his name on it, but I apparently had nothing to prepare myself for.

According to his evaluator, Truman “played well with others,” was “interested in other dogs but easy to control,” “walked nicely with a loose leash,” “did not require many corrections,” “laid quietly” in establishments, “responded quite well with a new handler in an unfamiliar area,” “responded well to obedience commands,” and is an “overall nice boy!” He isn’t even scheduled for a second evaluation, which is a good sign.

I also admit I laughed out loud when I read the assessment of his energy level as “moderate,” but I did factor in the reality that he’d been at the kennel for a day before going out for his eval.

Truman is still a wild and crazy puppy at times, but he has definitely had an epiphany of sorts in the last month or so. We often speak of the light switch going on…this isn’t the BIG light switch, but there has been a significant change in his demeanor and maturity. I’m quite pleased.

I would say I’m giving him extra hugs and kisses these days because I’m so proud of him, but that would imply the possibility of giving him more than I already do.

September 7 — I’m telling you, if this dog decides guide work isn’t for him, he’s got a job waiting in Hollywood:

You may have noticed I just put up about 15 posts…that means I’m mostly caught up! Anyway, this should hold you for a bit while I’m out of town and Truman is up at “Camp GDA” having his first evaluation. Wish us luck!

August 25 — Fortunately, I was able to make this month’s puppy class up at GDA, and to see little Camry, being raised by our friend Joanna. Here’s Camry, being her laid-back little self:

Since Tai and Tori are the only “T” littermates who consistently show up for the Saturday classes, it looks like we’ve started a monthly habit of getting family pictures. I don’t know if it was the light obedience session (due to the hot weather in Sylmar), or just their natural goofiness, but it seems like there was at least one of the siblings goofing off in every picture I took.

First, Tori gives the old squinty-eye:

Then, Tai makes a face while everyone else is serious:

And finally, Truman sticks his tongue out at the camera:

August 24 — Because Truman requires so much exercise in order to be able to focus and behave, I try to get him as much dances-with-dogs time as I can. Brother Tai, who is also a bit more high-energy since Paige went in for formal training, is our favorite playmate. The lads are evenly matched and romp well together. Two furry peas in a pod:

July 28 — While I was away on a weekend-long volunteer gig with Soldiers’ Angels, my fellow puppy raisers Madeline and Bob were kind enough to puppysit dear Truman. They even took him up to the monthly puppy class at GDA, where these photos were taken of Truman with his brother Tai and sister Tori. There is no mistaking their family ties:

July 19 — Truman’s post-operative energy level has not decreased in the slightest, but he’s being remarkably good about leaving the incision site alone. The couple of times I’ve caught him nosing toward the area, I’ve found that a quick “leave it” will do the trick. He’s such a good boy that way. But even the best “good boy” cannot be left to his own devices at night, so we must of course enlist the aid of the dreaded cone.

Predictably, he hates it. Who wouldn’t? But after the epic struggle ensues in which I am finally able to hold him still and shove it onto his gigantic head (the struggle to get it off him is far worse, unfortunately, which often sees my vocabulary devolve into three or four choice words and phrases I won’t repeat here), he’s remarkably compliant. He’s still a small enough dog to be able to go inside the kennel with it on and lie down comfortably, and he — unlike poor Lomax — is not afraid to move around while the torturous thing is on his head.

Still, he’s not pleased. He merely looks pathetic in this photo. I am for some reason unable to capture his more common expression, wherein he regards me with a hatred like the burning of a thousand white-hot suns.