But the truth is….

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The best version

The kids at church wanted to know why the big bandage on my temple.  So I told them:  We were branding, vaccinating and cutting the bulls when one of the calves got loose from the chute and made a break for it.  I grabbed at him and managed to rassle him down which the mama cow didn’t take too kindly.  She charged me and knocked me down and her horn hooked me on the side of the face.  One of the cowboys realized the only help I would get was if he roped the cow and drug her out.  But the loop of his lasso got wrapped around my boot, caught in my spur and instead, he was pulling my leg . . .

   . . . just like I’m pulling yours!

Well, the big eyes and open mouths and sympathetic groans changed to a look like “I wish that cow had gored you!"  

So the truth is…

The dermatologist needed more practice so he cut me again and the second time he declared he finally got all the cancerous cells.  He did such a good job of closing the wound that my only concern now is that I won’t even have a nasty enough scar to get any much deserved sympathy. 

But I really do appreciate all the prayers that kept any aggravated mama cow and the skin cancer from doing me any more harm.

 

2 thoughts on “But the truth is….

  1. G’day Mate, Well it realy looks like you have been attacked — and that’s no Bull.
    Good to see your mugshot — you’re lookin’ as young as ever!! or — are my glasses a little dirty.
    — Praying with you both.
    Blessings, Ray.

  2. I was just telling Charles that if you were here in Senegal, they’d name you a griot. If you forgot what it was, I’m sure google has info on it.

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