Chicago | My Life as a Ham

I’m a good boy

Well, I did another good thing the other day. Add it to the list of all the good things I already do: finish all of my meals, give everyone lots of kisses, keep Veda’s back warm while she sleeps, bring joy to the world and everyone I meet. Check, check, check and check. Now, the latest good deed done is this little guy.

This is Ollie. He’s our temporary houseguest.

You wouldn’t believe it, but he’s homeless. Yup, he made a long journey from San Antonio to Chicago with hopes and dreams of a better life and a consistent bowl of dry, brown roundish bits. He’s just a little guy with a spotted belly and a tendency to roll over on his back with the slightest nudge. He moved into our house last week and peed on a few things, but nothing I haven’t already peed on. It was supposed to be a longer stay with us, but a week into his visit we found him a forever home! His forever home is not with Ms. Veda and me because our parents only have 2 hands each which means they can only pet two dogs at a time and more than that would be cruel to me. If you are petting a dog with one hand then you better get that other hand busy by petting me! Do you think you evolved to have two hands for a better reason? Maybe to throw two cats out of the house at the same time, but that’s the only other reason! Just kidding, I love my feline friends and their pointy claws.

: Veda showing interspecies respect to the late Smokey Bones

These posts never stay on track! Let’s return to our original focus of Señor Ollie. His days of wandering the country in search of a place to call his own have come to an end in the City of the Big Shoulders. Check. I think my heart is going to break that little heart meter from the Grinch pretty soon if these good deeds keep stacking up. Watch out Mother Teresa! Mr. Hambone is on his way up the ladder of the Saints.

-Hamanitarian of the year

My Understanding of What I Understand

Ho hey! I’m not one to comment on current events because more important topics such as balls and myself take precedent, but it’s hard to avoid the ever presence of the frozen tundra which now surrounds me. It appears that my wonderful parents, my buddy Veda, and I have moved cities recently, but it is a little hard for me to tell the difference. We still live upstairs, we still have a deck, we still have a yard, there’s still a large body of water down the road, the only hills around here still are bridges, and we live next to a road which transports things at which I can bark. Maybe the trees look a little different, but by all means it is tough for me to identify anything substantial to support that we actually “moved”…except this one thing. Snow. Oh my, so so much snow.

80 inches of snow? Bring it.

It’s white, flaky, and pristine as it piles and piles up everywhere. Prime frolicking material, you know? And bonus bonanza: The stuff freezes into solid blocks perfect for chewing or throwing or batting around the skating rink that was our yard. It all seems like a great addition to what was my world of palm fronded trees, salty water, and warm weather, but there’s a more fiendish side to this snow stuff. It freezes the pickles out of my paws! The squishing of snow under my paws sounds like styrofoam being rubbed together and it feels great when it slushes between my toes until I can’t feel the slushing anymore. The feeling fades into a numb, stabbing pain, so I lift my paws up and put on this sad face in hopes someone will pick me up like the delicate little tortilla that I am. It worked at first! Now I have to rough it and walk up the stairs under my own will power. You should have seen the shoes I tried on as a fix for the freezing. They helped my paws, but hurt my ego. Not being able to feel the ground drives me nuts and it makes me do embarrassing things with my legs. I can’t explain that part. Honestly, throw on the coat my mom made me, take me for a walk, feed me, and give me a pat on the head and I’m happy anywhere. This new place has not only grown on me, I’d say the difference between here and old home is only a matter of degrees. Zing!

-Ham out