Seeking a Friend for the End of the World

If you haven't seen the movie, Seeking a Friend for the End of the World, Steve Carell's character, after finding out that the world is going to end due to an inevitable impact with an asteroid, gets drunk on Windex, I think, and passes out in the park. When he wakes up, he finds that a dog has been tied to him, and a note left on his shirt reads, "Sorry."

He keeps the dog, calls him "Sorry," and nonchalantly takes care of him for the rest of the movie. Both he and the dog simply accept that their fates are intertwined. While Steve Carell and Keira Knightly fumble their way through awkward moments, separations, and misunderstandings, Sorry is the constant. By Steve's side, his needs are few -- his routine, simple.

I have no qualms about comparing my love for Ellie to Sorry's love and loyalty. From the moment I knew she existed, I felt that she was mine, I was hers. I could physically feel her in my arms, her warmth, her joy, long before I held her little body close to mine. Though I often compare her to a dog (as she chases after balls, scrounges for food on the floor, and rolls around playfully on her back), I'm the one who sits at attention when she cries, leaps with joy when she comes in the room, and would gladly give my life for hers.

So, though I laughed at how the movie portrayed the characters' reactions to the inevitable end (particularly the guy mowing his lawn, the woman watering her flowers), today, even when presented with the slim chance that the world may end tomorrow, even when I thought I might do something daring like... make a really good dinner, skip doing dishes, and stay up way too late eating dessert, I didn't.

E and I ate leftovers. I cleaned up, gave her a bath, and put her to bed.

I was, with my master by my side, quite satisfied and content with my simple routine, warm snuggles, and a good bowl of scraps. Had the weather been a little warmer, I may have even mowed the lawn.