His name is Truman. Truman was one item that I brought into our marriage that wasn’t thrown away. (That and my rocking corduroy shirt, which Stunning despises.) Anyway, I think everyone that knows Truman has a love/hate relationship with the dog. Some, such as my wife, are proportionately on the hate side. For me, it’s more on the love side.
Truman is an amazingly kind dog. He’s never really met a person he doesn’t like and if a robber were to come into the home he would love them so much that he might offer them a cup of coffee and then assist them in placing items in their car.
How can you not love those big puppy dog eyes and face? He might just be the cutest dog in the world… There’s another side to Truman though.
For example, one day Stunning came home to find Truman had eaten the chair. When I left that day, I placed some liver paste (one of his favorite paste flavors) on a chewie and put it on the floor. Well, he licks the paste off and accidentally shoves it under the chair. The only way to get it now is to move the chair and rip it apart. Then he gets so excited about his brut strength in moving furniture he also got a gift bag of tea and tears it apart.
Let me just say that Truman was “my dog” for a long time after that.
There’s another time though that Truman decided he no longer wanted to be in his really expensive wooden kennel.
He was “my dog” after that as well.
He’s no longer to be “home alone” anymore. When he is, he knocks over trashcans and eats Baker’s Chocolate (then has to go to the vet, and the vet gives him “charcoal” to bind to the poison chocolate, and then he pukes charcoal and chocolate vomit on white carpet just hours before Stunning is throwing a baby shower at our apartment). He spends his nights free to roam the house (at least until Junior comes), but he almost always stays peacefully in bed. He spends most of his days outside in the yard lounging.
No matter what he does though, Truman’ll always be a super dog in my book.
