Let's begin with a clip of Hoots reciting his poem 3 years ago, "Hoots on Dogs & Humans":
Hoots (origin clickable here) was built by me, and was named in reincarnation of a beloved childhood hand puppet. Problem with hand puppets is they begin to wonder about their own anatomy at some point and begin looking under their clothes. Inevitably, they find they are little different from gloves, their primordial ancestors, and their naked bodies are human hands.
Poor hand-puppet-Hoots began to worry about self-determination, especially after following my arm from his hem to me. Disillusioned, he started to fall apart and finally was no more. I didn't think too much about him until high school graduation when my whole class dressed in gowns. We all looked like hand puppets and I was afraid to look down --there might be an arm!
Years later, I got married and had children for whom I didn't buy hand puppets. We got a dog instead, a happy Shepherd-Labrador to romp with the kids and, if necessary, bite unwanted intruders. She is long-buried out back, under a concrete slab that reads "Protected and Had Fun". The children grew up and found other rompers, we never replaced our dog --but lately, I've thought about it because I'm tired of dashing out and biting intruders myself.
Your regular pastor will be back next week or whenever the veterinarian gives him clearance. What's that? No, your regular pastor was vaccinated for Parvo --it's not that. Go thou and do likewise.