Nice Haircut, Gizmo.

My life is a cantankerous Shitsu with a personality disorder and a bad haircut. Actually his haircut looks bad because it is not finished and it isn't finished because Gizmo, that's our dog, a.k.a. Captain Grumpypants, decided that despite his initial cooperation with the groomer, he did not want to continue. Ergo, bad, unfinished haircut for which we were only charged half price.

Gizmo has caused a number of problems for us over the years, but he's one of us: he's a part of our family. We endure his moods, take his affection when it is on offer, feed and house him, and we'll continue to try to find a groomer who can form a 'full haircut permitting' bond with him. His hair will grow out and before long he will be a four footed mop once more.

I am currently in the middle of what is easily the most emotionally traumatic experience of my life. I have been spared misfortune and escaped tragedy. God has given me grace to look with compassion on those who have suffered, while expressing my gratitude that I have not been a victim of life's myriad cruelties. The pain I feel will pass, although I don't know when and I don't know how. There are deep wounds to be healed, and divine intervention will be required. Forgiveness will beat a path through the jungle towards restoration, but it will be a monumental struggle. A long, tearful and intense battle.

Gizmo has a terrible haircut and a bad attitude but he's a dog, and his life is very simple. He doesn't care about his appearance but he has become a powerful symbol to me of how complicated my life has become, how awful I am, and also, how incomplete. Every time I look at him, I see 'unfinished business'.