Dreaming Time

I haven’t remembered my dreams of late, but last night’s is pretty clear.

 

I went on a hike, a huge long hike through desert sand dunes, probably twenty miles of hiking, with a group of strange dream people.  The terminus of our hike was Macchu Picchu, which I was surprised to learn is located right on an 8 lane highway.  Well, I was getting very tired, and I looked behind me and lo and behold, my sister was coming up the trail just a few yards away, and she had Virgil with her.  Oh great, I thought – a ride.  I grabbed Virgil by his leash, which turned into a horse bridle and reins, and rode him through town, meeting people on the way, calling out to friends, and reading posters on the old crumbling walls that detailed the hottest music acts in town.   Looking for a cool place to hang out that evening, I guess – Macchu Picchu is a really happenin’ place.  I remember thinking – I hope I’m not hurting the wee dog, I’m so heavy right now, being pregnant.  We ended up on a crowded tourist beach, and I hopped off the dog so he could frolic in the waves for a bit.  He leapt out into the water, swimming with joy, but he kept swimming and swimming and swimming . . .  I stood, forlorn on the sand, and watched my pup swim away from me, off into the ocean, and I knew he was gone forever.

 

The reason I remember this dream is because I woke up in the middle of it, to the sound of Virgil licking his paws.  For once, I wasn’t annoyed at my 2am wakeup.  I nestled back into the covers, happy to know that in real life I still had The Scourge with me, Macchu Picchu is not (yet) located on an 8 lane highway, and I am not really so ridiculous as to think that a corgi is an effective means of transportation for a 177 pound human (gasp!  I’ve gained 30 pounds!)