Disclaimer: This post isn't about Bastian, Falcor, Artax or Atreyu, or their journey to save the land of Fantastia...
...though that's a great movie from my childhood, and when I watch it now it is WEIRD.
No, this is the story of my neverending battle against HAIRBALLS.
It is a story without a happy ending, I'm afraid, because I'm constantly losing the battle.
I clean up the hairballs, and not an hour later, little tumbleweeds of dead skin cells go twirling across my kitchen floor, or getting caught against the cold-air return vent in the hallway.
It is a heart-wrenching task, sweeping up the hair--knowing that the little buggers will return soon to mock my hard work. What is the definition of insanity? "Repeating the same action over and over, expecting a different result."
I guess I should not expect any less, with 2 dogs and myself in an old house filled with hardwood flooring and tile. I mean, it is just a fact of nature that dogs and humans lose their hair on a daily basis, and new hair regrows in it's space. I should probably appreciate the circle of life that is represented here. Or wonder at God's amazing design that we don't all go bald with all of this hair loss.
But I don't. I complain, and live to sweep another day.