I bid you good winter, sirs and madams! Yes, the winter wind has returned to brush my belly with frigid kisses and freeze my paws with thorny icicles. The mercury has dropped to an almost unbearable level and the decrease in degrees always comes with a slight increase in my old knee pains. You may remember my account of how I tore up my back knees (I had some help from a jerk at a dog park), but you will not remember the rest of the story because I have not acquainted you with the remaining tale…until today! I find it to be a perfect time to tell stories as I lay in front of the fire that warms my bones. Some people think I sit too close to the fire for too long, but I say they are too wrong. Anyone smell something burning? Must be time to turn over. Back to my tale of woe!
I believe you last knew that my rear CCLs were both torn and any vigorous physical activity left me in limping pain for hours to days afterwards. My mom was in pain watching me in pain which made the pain worse because seeing her in pain reminds me that my pain is causing her pain and the circle never ends! Ooch, right? What were we to do? Luckily, Grandpa had some connections. In a swift matter of time, I was evaluated for surgical repair on my right knee and scheduled for surgery. Yikes! I’ve watched a lot of Scrubs, so I know a lot about medicine. Mainly, medicine is hilarious, useful and sometimes tragic. It’s mostly useful though and it occasionally requires you to break out into song. The date of my surgery was set and everyone was a little nervous. I would pace the house and constantly chew on balls or hide under blankets just to find some solace. I found it. The day came and some nice people put me to sleep, shaved my rear end and then fixed my leg with fishing line. I don’t remember any of that, but that’s what the surgeon relayed to me when I came to from the anesthesia. I wish I could have stayed asleep for the next few days because the pain was incredible. Look at me! Pitiful!
Post-surgical pity face
It was real pity, too. Not that stupid play on words because I’m part pit bull. It was honest to goodness pity. The next few days were a blur of sleep, pain meds, and personal service. My food was placed centimeters away from my face, I was carried up and down the stairs, and I was allowed to sleep anywhere. All of that would have been great if it didn’t feel like someone shaved my butt, cut my leg open and then tied a bunch of fishing line around my bones. Fortunately, things got better and then they got much better and then I was a super hero. Do you want to see me run and jump and swim and swim and swim and swim? I can do all of that now without the painful consequences. My left leg still gives me trouble and they say I’ll have to get that one fixed someday too, but I’m a pretty amazing 3.5 legged dog for now. Is that my horn tooting? Mom says I need to work on my humility. Shove it, Ma! I am the Hambone, the Ham of Ham and Potato, the Hambone whose hambone is connected to the hambone! I love exclamation points!!!!!! I love you, too.
-Hamility
My Life as a Ham 