The Many Faces of Truman

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!

Saturday Class at GDA

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:

Brudder Time

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:

More Family Photos

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:

Conehead

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.

Trespassing

July 16 -- Truman enjoys posing in front of other people's houses.

Calendar Boys?

July 15 -- The South Bay Puppy Raisers publish an annual wall calendar full of lovely photos of our puppies in training, breeders, and working guides. In 2007, Lomax's winning smile propelled him to fame as "Mr. March," a distinction of which we were both quite proud (and which no doubt helped boost calendar sales and the resulting proceeds to GDA).

Because I always seem to have the privilege of raising lively, handsome, personality-plus yellow Labs, I wanted to make sure I got some quality photos for this year's calendar submission. Matt graciously offered his photography skills and superior camera for the cause, so we took the "brudders" Tai and Truman to the park for a photo shoot.

On Not Letting Sleeping Dogs Lie

Nothing But the Tooth

July 13 -- When did little puppy Truman become big dog Truman? The little man is growing up so quickly. That's why puppy raisers have to be so vigilant and consistent -- a few months of development, with all those bad habits or good habits (depending on the work you've done), can take place in just a couple of weeks.

The milestones have been coming fast and furious. We received early permission to start using a training collar. We received Truman's "big boy jacket" in the mail. And finally, FINALLY, he has all his adult teeth (can't tell you how happy my wardrobe and I are about that).

For the longest time, I didn't see one discarded puppy tooth anywhere, which seemed crazy to me, as I don't have a yard for him to leave them in (and you'd think I'd notice a tooth on the floor in my apartment). It seems the moment I mentioned this out loud, however, Truman started leaving a trail for my amusement. I looked down one day to find a tooth in the middle of my living room carpet. Then there was one on another puppy raiser's living room floor. Then there was one on the floor of my cubicle at work. But my favorite one happened at church.

It's illustrative of the parental mode a puppy raiser can find herself in, even if she's never had human children. Like the mom who puts the toddler's used Kleenex in her purse when there is no nearby trash can, we find ourselves dismissive of any passing thought that what we're touching is just plain gross, because life just has to go on sometimes. So when I was sitting in church that morning and noticed Truman playing with something on the floor, I reached for it immediately, discovered what it was and put the little tooth in my pocket. A few minutes later, I put the communion bread in my mouth, realizing only after I'd done so that I'd just employed the same hand that had picked up the tooth. The mental "oh, well" followed in a split-second.

A few minutes after that, as it dawned on me that our "sanctuary" is the gymnasium of the local Boys & Girls Club, I found myself saying a quick prayer and pulling the tooth out of my pocket just to make sure it was actually Truman's.

What He Really Wants to Do Is Direct

July 8 -- This photo, taken by the graphic designer where I work, will be the perfect headshot for Truman's career in film noir.

Hoofers and Woofers

July 1 -- In an effort two combine two of my great loves (puppy raising and swing dancing) I took Truman on his first outing to Santa Monica's Third Street Promenade, on a Sunday evening when the Third Street Swingers were holding one of their outdoor dances. It continues to be my hope that Truman will someday be mature and self-controlled enough to accompany me to my weekly dance class, so I wanted to see what he would think of loud music and lots of motion. Figured this would be a good introduction.

The group dances at the very end of the Promenade, blocks from where I typically park to go to the mall, so we had some walking to do. While Friday and Saturday nights see crazy crowds there year-round, a Sunday evening in the summertime can be busy as well. I was pleased; Truman navigated the crowds with surprising ease and confidence, and demonstrated impressive obedience once we reached our destination and parked ourselves on a nearby curb to watch. A few of my friends from dance class came over to tell him how handsome he is, as did at least a dozen passersby. He took in his surroundings, watching everything with great interest, but he seemed most interested in people who were walking their dogs, which was not a big surprise.

By the time we took this photo, Truman's attention span was about shot, but I did manage to get him to hold still for just a moment:

ZZZzzzzWOOF--huh?

June 28 -- Truman just barked and woke himself up from a sound sleep.

The Rodeo 24/7

June 24 -- It's good to have friends. My puppy group area leaders are wonderful people who always seem to have a house full of Labs, whether the dogs belong to them or not. I guess that's what happens, though, when you live near several members of your puppy group. And when you are qualified to administer puppy shots.

Pictured below, L to R: Truman, Paige, Mika, Dusty (in the background), and Tai (in the lower right corner), otherwise known as the usual suspects. Not pictured: Jetta, Tallee, and Luke, otherwise known as usually on a couch somewhere napping.

The (Human) Graduation Party

June 23 -- Truman attended his first human party.

My cousins have graduated: one from high school, his brother from college. Truman, being the delightful charmer and life of the party that he naturally is, was invited to share in the festivities. He was a pretty good house guest, considering his age...and the presence of two cats...and the amount of noise and activity being generated by the revelers, many of whom were adolescent males joyously engaged in raucous video games and the dropping of tasty food-bits on the floor within reach of a still-quite-low-to-the-ground dog.

The unflappable Truman didn't flinch when the elder statescat of the house held his ground and hissed as we approached the front door. He didn't take much notice of the ubiquitous balloons. And he weathered with good nature, as did I, the many drunken choruses of "Ain't no bugs on me" (a refrain from a TV commercial for flea prevention, starring a Truman lookalike) sung repeatedly to him by an enthusiastic partygoer.

When things got to be just a bit too much, little Truman and I would escape to the relative peace of the upstairs bathroom ("The Queen's Room," as it is known in my aunt's world) for a time out. Letting him nap and chew bones in the portable soft crate, set upon the cool tile floor of the bathroom, was just the thing to help him center himself. It was also just the thing to allow me to actually head back downstairs to partake of the party food and to hold conversations with other people that were not punctuated with "leave it," "drop it," and "sit."

TrumanVision: Truman's Post-Bath Shuffle

I am thrilled that there's finally an easy way to upload video directly to Blogger....

Though I tend to take more still photos of Truman than actual video (you would think the opposite would be less of a challenge), I occasionally like to record a moment for posterity. This is a brief clip of the madness that occurred after Truman's first bath. I had promised him that I would feed him dinner afterward if he was a good boy.

Yes, I fed him anyway. But that's not the point of this story.

For your inaugural TrumanVision experience, please enjoy a little of his post-bath "Labrador Shuffle." Pure energy burn or an attempt to air dry himself? You decide:

Three

I can hardly believe it, but Lomax turns three years old today! I bought him a little birthday present and had it sent (through the school) to him and his partner, along with my request that she shower him with hugs and kisses on my behalf. Happy birthday to The Moof and Liam as well!

New Kid on the Block

The people who raised our friend Trooper are raising another puppy. Everyone, meet seven-and-a-half-week-old Geo:







Yes, he's a cute little stinker. But don't worry, Truman. You're still my little sunshine.

Truman Makes a Splash

Lots of splashes, actually, and mostly with his front paws. But we'll get to that in a moment.

It's been a busier than originally planned holiday weekend, and my big dreams of catching up on my dog blogging have been thwarted once again. So, my apologies to those of you who check in here daily, hoping for more glimpses into the world of Truman and the exhausted humans in his life. I have photos and stories in the wings that date back to late June, believe it or not, and my anal-retentive (or maybe OCD? should we take a vote?) personality is vexed that I've been unable to keep things in chronological order for you. Okay, for me.

But please know that I have much, much more on the way, and that I will be entirely caught up by the end of this month, because Truman and I have a quarterly sponsor report due...the contents of which come primarily from this blog. So, accountability strikes again! Hang in there with me, won't you?

Meanwhile, enjoy this story from our Lab(rad)or Day Weekend festivities....

A group of puppy raisers got together for a pool party on Sunday. Perfect day for it here in the middle of our Southern California heat wave, which brought temperatures in the hottest parts of town up to 113 degrees (118 with the heat index). I didn't officially count the dogs in attendance, but the number could safely be estimated at around a dozen (46 with the enthusiasm index).

By the time we arrived, there were too many off-leash and in-the-water dogs to be able to gently introduce Truman to the steps in the shallow end of the swimming pool, so I just let him fly. And fly he did, only to discover that his landing spot was not, in fact, solid ground. Surprise!

Not that he was traumatized. There were plenty of people in the pool to help him out of the water, and after a few minutes of some land-based hijinx with toys and other dogs, he worked up the fortitude to try it again. And again, and again.

Though he is a brilliant and coordinated dog on dry land, Truman's seafaring aptitude leaves something to be desired. He eventually got to the point where he would leap enthusiastically into the water (or onto my head if I misjudged the distance) when I stood in the pool and called him, but his swimming skills could use some work. Truman attempted to navigate his aquatic environment by paddling furiously...with his front legs. Was he trying to climb out? To build his upper body strength? To splash the rest of us? In any case, it rendered him vertical, and required someone lifting his hiney (by grabbing hold of his prodigious and stretchy skin, as he has yet to properly grow into his Truman Suit) in order to get him moving in the right direction. Add to that his repeated attempts at biting the water droplets he was splashing up, and you'll understand why I'm disappointed that I was in the water at that point and not on land with a video camera. He would head toward the steps, where all the other dogs were exiting, and either try to climb out next to the steps without their assistance, or he would get to the steps, put his front legs on land and hang out (sometimes chewing on a toy) as if that were the point of being in the pool in the first place.

Truman did, however, immediately take to use of the raft in the middle of the pool, leaping upon the unsuspecting (and much too near the pool edge) Yasmin as she lay face down in short-lived relaxation. Epcot joined them, in a bid to claim the territory for the yellow Lab populace. Truman enjoyed many return visits to the floating paradise throughout the afternoon, to wrestle with his brother Tai, to play "Tugboat Truman" in towing Katie to shore, and -- as shown here -- to snuggle with Yasmin, "Queen of Yellow Dog Island."



When he wasn't actually in the water, he was finding a way to make his mark. Whether it's leaping sideways over another dog, licking up spilled drinks, zipping like wet lightning through a barely open door into the house, or leaving a "gingerbread trail" of squishy, chlorine-water-inspired dog droppings on the pavement next to the pool, Truman always leaves his wacky calling card. That's my boy.

Epcot Comes to Visit

June 22 -- Puppy swap!

Our good friend Epcot, another tall, yellow and handsome male Labrador, needed a ride up to GDA for a vet appointment, so I took the opportunity to puppy swap with his family.

When you're used to an immature, opinionated, feisty five-month-old with the self-image of Napoleon and the brute strength of a tiny Clydesdale, you forget how blessedly "easy" it is to handle a big dog. Epcot was ever the gentleman, a pleasure to walk and cradle and command.



My neighbors were confused. They'd see me outside, relieving this big yellow dog, and the inevitable comment would come. "He's HUGE!" Then I'd wait for the sheepish question. "Is that...the same dog?" And I'd laugh. If we were living in a soap opera, where a child who was born two seasons ago is suddenly attending college, then yes. That would be the same dog. But I would politely explain, and introduce them to Mr. Epcot, who would smile to put them at ease.

He was a good boy. Very sweet, laid back, intelligent. But as much as he tried to convince me that the floor of the passenger side of my truck just wasn't comfortable for a dog of his size, I was not about to let him drive.

Obedience

June 16 -- I found a great obedience class near my apartment, that's held in a private park. The park is gated, so after class we let the dogs who have been properly socialized run and play off-leash.

Truman is not the only "Truman" in class. Oddly enough, though, he IS the only Lab. The rest of the class is a picture of diversity (like commercials and TV shows where the directors are compelled to cast a child from every ethnic background). Wiemeraner, Corgi, Terrier, Poodle...I found the pairing of the Irish Wolfhound and the argyle sweater-clad Dachsund particularly amusing.

He did very well considering there were almost 20 dogs in class. Fairly distracted, which was to be expected, but his obedience was better than that of many of the older dogs. He would sit and lie down like a champ. His attention span was about done by the end of the hour, but I was impressed he'd held on that long. He only lunged a few times -- playfully -- which was typically brought on by close proximity of another dog who looked him in the eye.

Jacqueline, our instructor, is great. She understands that pups in training have different rules and doesn't want to get in the way of that. She's committed to getting the dogs properly socialized and the people properly trained. She gets to know the personalities of the dogs and keeps an eye on anyone with aggressive tendencies. Also, she charges a flat fee good for the life of the dog, so we can go however long we'd like to go; she even said if he's career changed and adopted by someone else, the deal still stands. And the bonus for me is, since Truman is a sponsored dog, I even get reimbursed for it!

And now, this is what he's doing. I already like this class.

Scratch & Sniff Photo

June 16 -- Clean dog, stinky shoes.

Lablutions

June 15 -- Truman's First Bath

Well...Truman's first bath since puppy pickup day, I suppose. At any rate, it was Truman's first bath at the (apparently very slippery) hands of his puppy raiser.

He'd been stinky. It was time.

I'd been working him up to it. For the last few weeks, I'd been desensitizing him to the shower in my bathroom. Encourage him to sniff from the outside. Open the door, get in, encourage him to hop into the dry bathtub, close the door behind us. Give him treats. Open the door, let him hop out, turn on the faucet, let him sniff from the outside.

He was all too happy to pose pre-bath, no idea what awaited him.

It was promising in the beginning, even after the closing of the door. Truman met the rushing water with gusto, perhaps a bit too much. My challenge was to keep him from shoving his entire head under the stream and flooding his little ears. Gusto became slight confusion as I pulled up the valve to redirect the water to the shower head in my hand. Slight confusion then gave way to "YOU'RE DOING WHAT WITH THAT, EXACTLY????"

That's right, pal. Washing you. Bath time for you, stinkbug.

Not part of his plan, apparently. Though he did not bite or scratch or freak out in any sort of vocal manner, Truman did manage to investigate every possible inch of the enclosed space in an effort to find an escape route. A few times, he even stretched as far as he could with his front paws up the back wall of the shower, perhaps envisioning an impressive leap over the shower door, or at least an attempt at signaling for the assistance of passersby.

The end result, though pathetic to look at, was an orange-cream-scented Truman who then received a towel rubdown and his promised reward of chicken chips, and "Labrador Shuffled" circles throughout my apartment until he was mostly air-dried.

Finally, He's Tired...

...and it only took four hours of running with ten other dogs.

Last night was Paige's last freestyle back yard romp with her buddies before turn-in for formal training. I'll leave the details of the story for Matt & Amy to tell, but I will say that it was a joyous gathering of friends and puppies -- our count at the peak of the evening was eight Labs, two goldendoodles and a goldador. Glorious chaos!



We wish the best of luck to delightful, cuddly, snorty, lovable miss Paige as she embarks on "Paige One" of the next chapter of her life. May she prove to be the top of her class, just as she is always at the top of the dog pile for the water dish....



We love you, Paiges.

From One DevilDog to Another (Semper Fur?)

We are feeding our Marines -- my official adoptee as well as the aforementioned K9 unit (both are in Iraq). That's why Truman's in uniform here, looking as tough as he possibly can.

My own personal "devil dog" watched (and sniffed) with great interest as I packed up four boxes of jerky, trail mix, dried fruit, candy, protein bars, toiletries, dog toys, sand scarves, cooling neck wraps, phone cards, letters, and probably dog hair. He accompanied me to the post office to pick up some customs forms, but will be napping in his crate at home while I actually drag the boxes back and stand in line for the big send-off. I only have so many hands, you know.

Many thanks to those of you who sent e-mail greetings and photos of your puppies! I'm sure the K9 team will be thrilled. I'll let you know if I hear back from them.

Help Me Support a K-9 Team in Iraq

Want to lend a helping paw? Some of you know about my other volunteer involvement as part of Soldiers' Angels...well, in addition to my "formally" adopted Marine, Truman and I are also sending a care package (through AnySoldier.com) to a Marine K-9 unit currently serving in Iraq. We're including snacks for the human part of the team, and some rugged toys for the dog part of the team -- Kongs, Nylabones, you guys know, all the good "big dog" stuff.

But what I often hear is that package recipients are equally excited to receive letters and well-wishing from home. Most of the readers of this blog are puppy raisers; you guys know how special the bond is between a working dog and his (or her!) handler, and these teams are doing very difficult, dangerous work. Think about your most stressful day as a puppy raiser, then think about how stressful it would be to be in charge of a dog whose job it is to locate explosives.... The dogs need play time and the people need a little morale boost.

So, if you'd like to send a little note of encouragement from you or your puppy-in-training (or working service dog) to the K-9 team, e-mail it to me, and I'll print it out and put it in the care package along with my letter and the rest of the goodies. You can even send a photo, if you'd like. I'll be mailing the package on Monday, August 6th, so send me any e-mail by Sunday the 5th if you're interested. Thanks for your support!

"Expecto Pa-Truman!"

Truman accompanied me to the festivities at our local Borders bookstore last night in celebration of the release of "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" (for those of you who've been living under a rock or in an experimental underground Bio-Dome for the last year or so, that's the long-awaited final book in the record-breakingly popular series). Most bookstores in town were hosting parties replete with games and trivia contests and spelling bees, crafts and photo ops and themed goodies. I could not resist asking for a photo with these three little wizards, who stole the show at the costume contest.

I have come to the conclusion that my patronus, were I to conjure one, would be a decidedly ungraceful silver Labrador puppy, in full butt-tuck-and-run shuffle mode.

The final book is 784 pages long. Needless to say, Truman and I will be too busy to blog for a few days. Happy reading, fellow Potter fans!

Feeling Neuterrific!

"Keep puppy quiet for a few days so as not to disturb the incision site."

No play dates, no running up and down stairs. All the weapons in my "Make Him Tired" arsenal. Sure thing.

Meanwhile, Truman is asking, "Surgery? What surgery?" while he bounces around my apartment like Tigger with an extra tail. We've got a long week ahead of us.

Hallelujah

Truman's getting "The Big Snip" today, which will hopefully make his looming adolescence a whole lot easier for both of us. I'll pick him up from GDA tomorrow, all stitched up and sportin' a fancy cone. Stay tuned for late-breaking developments, and also for, what, another half-dozen or so posts that I owe you? I'll catch up someday, I promise.

Meanwhile, this is also his first overnight kennel stay. I'm praying he won't be so traumatized that he never wants to go back.

It was surprisingly hard on me, dropping him off yesterday in the knowledge that he was going in for a procedure rather than just a happy-go-lucky couple of days at Camp GDA. Don't get me wrong, I am THRILLED that I won't be attempting to leash correct a seventy-five-pound intact male someday...but I felt inexplicably sad about it. He's such a little guy right now, and I feel like I'm somehow betraying his trust. I know it's ridiculous, and I know I'll feel better the second I pick him up and take him home for snuggling and ice packs, but it's still strangely sad to me.

Happy Half-Birthday

Truman is six months old today! He'll be having the time of his life all day, in a thousand-Labrador-romp at my puppy group leaders' house, while I'm in San Diego enjoying some Pre-Raphaelites and Dead Sea Scrolls. Here's a photo I took yesterday to tide you over until my next "have to catch up on my blogging" update:

Olfactory Overload

June 15 -- I love the olfactory cornucopia that is Bath & Body Works; after a few minutes of sampling scented lotions, I'm blissfully overwhelmed and in a fruity, floral haze. Can you imagine what it's like for a dog, who can differentiate between the individual ingredients?

Sure, maybe it's not the same level of joy for him as would be, say, Meat & Marrow Works. But when he accompanied me to the semi-annual sale, his sniffer was plenty occupied and he even pulled at the leash, which is not his typical way.

It was tough to get him to hold still long enough -- and to maintain composure on the slippery floor, at that -- for a photo.

Big T and Little T

June 11 -- Because Truman requires so much exercise to keep himself in check, I try to not only walk him two or three times daily, but also to arrange play dates for him with other GDA dogs. Trooper, who you may remember from this long-ago post, lives nearby and has just the kind of personality necessary to show Truman that the world doesn't revolve around him.

Lomax was always an agreeable sort, and Trooper was occasionally a little too rough for him. But Truman is made of springs, teeth and attitude, and even at the tender age of five months, he is not only a willing but a fearless playmate for our manly friend Trooper, who was career-changed for being "a lot of dog." In a few months, when Little T has grown a bit, it will be even easier for him and Big T to tussle.

Did I forget to mention that this Trooper is no relation to our littermate Trooper?

Dog-Free at Disneyland

GDA has a rule about theme parks: puppies must be twelve months or older to go. So unfortunately, when we learned that Natalie was coming to the Happiest (and Most Expensive) Place on Earth, both Joanna and I knew we were in the same boat -- our little ones would be too little to attend. So while Camry was at a puppysitter's house and Truman was in his kennel at home for a few hours, the two of us headed to Disneyland to meet a fellow raiser from another country, with whom we've become acquainted via dog-blogging. (This is why the Internet is cool!)

I was dogless, which was a nice break for me. But one of the benefits of having a dog with you at Disneyland is that you don't really have to wait in line to go on most of the rides; you're treated like a "wheelchair party." Being wise to that principle, Joanna borrowed a dog for the day: Price, who just happens to be a littermate of the lovely Miss Paige. They look quite a bit alike, and Price is also, like his sister, a belly-rub beggar and world-class snuggler. Price's presence ensured our VIP treatment, and brought the requisite "ooh"s and "aah"s from passersby, who could not help but notice his handsome face and professional demeanor.

Though I only had a few hours to spend at the park (because my wee beastie can only spend so much time at home in the kennel), it was fun to meet Natalie and go on a couple of rides, to swap puppy stories and take a few pics and eat ice cream at the Carnation place (where Price could stay cool on the nice marble floor after a walk on warm pavement). I'll let Joanna give you the details, but I will say that Price did very well and managed the crowds with ease. I enjoyed taking the leash a few times and remembering what having a big dog is like.

It's too bad we didn't get to meet each other's dogs! Maybe Truman and Camry would like to go on a road trip to Toronto for a playdate with Fielder....

Happy Fourth!

It's been a pretty laid back day, as holidays go. When the Fourth of July is on a Wednesday....

I began my day by volunteering with Soldiers' Angels at the JP Blecksmith Memorial 5K Run. Truman got to sleep in, but was happily hopping around the living room with Amy by the time I got back. He had another nice nap while Amy and I went to see Ratatouille (which is highly recommended, by the way!) then spent the rest of the hot, humid afternoon lazing in the apartment with us. We just got back from a nice walk around the neighborhood, where we took the above photo (hard to find a REAL flag at an appropriate height for a picture) and enjoyed the sights and sounds of neighborhood family gatherings and a few bold daylight firecrackers.

The big local fireworks shows should start in about an hour, and I figure we'll probably just go out on on the balcony -- or maybe on the roof! -- to see what we can see, which gives us a quick escape route back to the apartment if it's too much for the little man.

UPDATE: We went up to the roof, where if you look carefully you can see as many as eight or nine different fireworks shows all over the southland, the closest of which is near enough to make some impressive light and sound. Truman could see that one, and watched, unafraid, for a good while before growing tired of the spectacle and returning to his preferred activity of sampling the delicious bird poop at his feet. My fearless little wonder. Good dog!

Happy Fourth of July!