Yo people. The Weege here.
I spent a really long time Tuesday morning writing a post that would also serve as my Last Will and Testament. In case you didn't know, (and if I were you, I'd be really embarrassed to admit it since you know, this is BIG NEWS) I was scheduled to undergo life-saving surgery tomorrow.
OK, so Mom says I need to clarify. Not EXACTLY life-saving, I suppose.
But you really might look at it that way if you were me.
Which you're not.
No one is planning to do unspeakable things to your knee.
So excuse me if I'm a LITTLE BIT OVERJOYED that the vet called Tuesday afternoon and had to re-schedule the surgery. It seems his office is close to the fire evacuation area and a couple of his technicians are unable to work this week. And although I'm really, really, sorry about the fires and all the heartache for my fellow pets and their people, I could not be more relieved about the whole re-scheduling thing.
I mean, were you aware that I was not going to be allowed any food for 12 HOURS BEFORE THE SURGERY? I mean, please, they may as well just go in and staple my stomach. Or for that matter, what the heck? Just remove my stomach. After 12 hours it would surely shrivel up and die anyhow. How do they expect me to survive this really invasive operation without some sort of nourishment? I could become dehydrated.
THEN WHAT would become of me?
I'm really not sure people have thought this through thoroughly. Mom says the Vet is such a nice guy - "He was a deacon in our church" she says. " He has a lovely wife (also a Vet) and two cute daughters".
Well, can anyone explain to me why any of that is even remotely important?
What I believe I'd really like to know is "HOW HANDY IS THE MAN WITH A KNIFE"?
Uh, just sayin'.
And oh yes.
Did you know that I'm supposed to be still and quiet and not jump on the furniture or chase the cows or jump into the Mule or rough-house with The Chief or ANYTHING ELSE AT ALL THAT MAKES LIFE WORTH LIVING FOR AN ENTIRE SIX WEEKS AFTER THE SURGERY?
No. I didn't think so.
If most of my fans knew these things they would start some kind of campaign to rescue me.
An amnesty organization of sorts.
I believe I have several good pictures that could be used for the posters...
Or maybe this one.
I think any of these might conjure up the emotion we're going for...
My freedom, I daresay my very life is in your hands.