Before I got Truman, my roommate bought a little Harry Potter "sorting hat" key chain, and it was our plan to put it on Truman's cute little head, take a photo, and announce to the world which house he'd been placed in.
From day one, Truman has been virtually impossible to catch in a nice sitting or lying down pose. The hat idea, which would probably have worked on a calmer pup, soon fell by the wayside. Even the photos from puppy pickup day show the other dogs happily in the arms of their raisers and obediently piddling on the grass before the trip home...but not Truman. I have some lovely pics of him obsessing on eating the grass, lunging for the other puppies, and (this one's my favorite) stretching from the safety of my arms to bite the neck of a nearby littermate.
So the roommate immediately suspected, even without the aid of the sorting hat, that Truman belonged in the house of Slytherin. His great love for the squeaky plush snake toy was another clue.
But the decision was solidified yesterday, after another random attack during a trip outside to relieve. When Truman's deadly puppy canines left this bloody, jagged mark on the top of my left foot, I knew what I was dealing with:
He's not just from Slytherin. My dog is freaking VOLDEMORT.