So my housemates have been gone on vacation for the last week, leaving me alone in a big house with their various four-legged dependents. Naturally, in such a situation, I follow my standard procedure for ensuring a healthy, pleasant time for myself - I start thinking all the saddest and loneliest thoughts I possibly can. For example, when you're a part of a very small, new church, you're subject to lots of people coming and going. When the goings start to outweigh the comings, your internal soundtrack starts to match "Not in Nottingham" or "Baby Mine" (from the more uplifting Disney movie moments), or maybe "Coldplay as Sung by Eeyore." People move away, they decide to go to a church more in line with the tradition they knew growing up, etc etc. When your church is your family, it tears at you.
I was thinking these thoughts on the way home from the grocery store tonight, and as I was carrying the bags in from the car, I observed some interesting behavior from Morgan, my housemate's puggle (a cross between a pug and a beagle, similar to a Shnocker Spaniel or a Pugweiler):
I love you! May I cover you with hair?
And now I shall poop in distress.
I may consider you warm furniture more than I consider you people, but you should be flattered! I love furniture!
This went on two or three more times as I finished getting the bags from the car.
Man, I thought, what a dumb dog. Didn't she know I was only going outside for ten seconds to get more bags? Didn't she pick up on the pattern here? At this point, it occurred to me rather forcefully: Why am I mocking Morgan? I am Morgan. When good things happen, I become deeply convinced that life is going to be awesome forever. When bad things happen, I become similarly convinced that life is going to be horrible forever. I might as well be whimpering at the empty driveway.
She doesn't understand things from a people-eye view - that her owners didn't abandon her to my general indifference for the rest of her days, that they're coming back tomorrow, etc etc. Similarly, I don't understand things from a God's-eye view, even though God has told me that he loves me, that he's going to take care of me, that the story has a happy ending if I turn to him. So I'm even worse than Morgan - I have no excuse. She's a puggle. I'm a people. And I'm far more valuable to God than Morgan is to her owners.
Oh me of little faith.