Ham-burden

So when I come to Paris, I know it's nearly impossible to be a vegan. I assume I'll be having to eat cheese, goat cheese if possible (I'm hoping less in the way of factory-farming). So I've been going to a wonderful little bakery on Ile St. Louis most days and ordering a sandwich fromage, usually the same woman serves me every time. So today I arrive home with my sandwich fromage and it's a sandwich fromage et jambon -- ham. I swear, it doesn't even register there's ham in something. It seems to be everywhere.
When i came to Paris a long time ago with my dog Poncho, I'd give him the jambon and I'd take the fromage. Like Jack Sprat and his wife, I guess. I am here sans chien (without dog) now, however, but here, alas, is the jambon.
This meat thing has happened before when I've traveled. Usually, rather than throw it out, I'll package up the errant meat and find a little stray dog on the street who needs a meal. And my first thought today was to bring the ham down to my little friend Bobby (the dog I mentioned in an  earlier post;  I've learned his name since then and more, too). But then I think if he's not used to the rich ham snack, he might get sick.
I'll put the snack in the refrigerator for now. If anyone has any advice, send it along asap, thanks.