Maybe United Methodist or PC-USA.
We’ll have to take Jake to the vet first thing tomorrow. The bite or scrape or whatever on his neck was healing just fine, but then he started scratching it, and now there’s a real danger that he’ll cut a major blood vessel and bleed to death. Tom and I just bandaged him up with lots of tape; he’s deeply offended.
I should probably run over to Walmart and get a fabric bandage as well. We don’t have a lot of antiseptic tape left; Sally plays with it.
The vet will have to sedate him, stitch him up, and then I don’t know what. Cone of Shame, probably.
I got some of the clingy fabric wrap they put on you after you give blood. Jake feels well enough to eat some sausage Kathleen threw.
Jake has been out there swinging his swords again? Poor Jake. And Jake told me he was proficient in swinging swords. I remember, Jake, the last cone of shame was forced to wear. My Better Half places it (cone of shame) around my neck each night and then threatens to not remove it if I do not fix breakfast and coffee each morning. I believe is best to comply Jake and stop swinging the sword collection. Those females hit hard, Jake. Besides the Vet will be holding the key just as my Better Half does to the cone of shame.
Prayers up! Many of us have worn the Cone of Shame. I’m not particularly ashamed. I am, however, especially prayerful. God Bless!