Adama’s doing fine, reader. Or at least as fine as one can be with a jaggedly stitched wound on his flank and one of those Elizabethan cones on his head. I’ll try to get a picture up soon. He’s looking a little drug-eyed and pathetic, but for the most part, he’s still his old sweet self. I won’t get into the gory details about the surgery itself. Suffice to say I don’t think we have anything to worry about. He’ll be good as new in ten to twelve days. Meantime, I have to figure out how to keep the world’s most energetic dog as motionless as possible in our tiny living room. Should be entertaining.