Burnin' Ring of Fire

On Monday, Zeke (our sweet and non-listening dog) refused to get out of Jeff's truck. With Tuck in one arm and his hand around Zeke's leash, anger inspired him to pull Zeke out of the truck with all his might. Zeke landed, not on his feet as cats always seem to do, but on his hip. One shattered femur later, one pin in the leg, three medications, $500, and a scar that makes me want to throw up when I look at it....Zeke is home sweet home.

Anger is a funny thing. Many people have trouble controlling it and it can divide a home, a family, a life. People forget many things, but rarely do they forget anger at its ugliest. Jeff got angry at our dog and it fizzled out after the accident. Unfortunately, my anger still burns -- at Jeff, at the situation, at the expense, at Zeke in pain, at just one more thing added to my already overwhelming day. It burns me.

While I may not use physical force when I'm angry, as men tend to do, I let a few well-executed words fall from lips and pierce Jeff. It felt good in some sad way to have him hurt for the hurt he had caused. But what I've realized from this whole situation is that anger is just a vicious cycle that always swings around to hurt us. We give it or we get it. It only gets better, however, when we let it go.

Here's to hoping I can lay the anger down. Let it go. Pick myself up and carry on. This is life, my friends. Another day will be here soon.