Woof!
Hi guys. Last night I had a distressing dream and I wanted share it with you. I really don’t quite know what to make of it.
My story starts out in a large grassy field. The lawn there is plush, like a velvety green throw pillow and it has the smell of having been recently mown. There are tall shade trees around its perimeter and the sound of happy tweeting songbirds is everywhere. The air smells of spring and I’m standing there all alone.
Suddenly, out of nowhere,a huge red ball appears and rolls slowly towards me. It’s too large to get into my mouth, although I do try…to no avail. After a few frustrating moments, I decide to push the ball with my large, classically Roman nose. This works well and I’m having fun… all by myself. I push it here… I push it there… I push it everywhere. (Gee! I sound like Dr. Seuss… don’t I?)
Unexpectedly, my ball starts to expand, like a big red balloon. It gets larger and larger… eventually it becomes bigger than my fashionable Victorian style doghouse. Suddenly… powy-zowy… it explodes!
Stay with me now… here’s where my dream gets really weird. Out of the shards of scattered ball remnants, steps the most beautiful French poodle you ever did lay your eyes on.
She had the biggest, dewiest, come hither brown eyes you could ever imagine and she’s shorn in one of those chichi Parisian, la-de-da haircuts. You know what I mean… the kind that’s bushy here… shaved there… with pink ribbons all over the place.
Even from a distance, I can smell her scent. It’s sweeter than a buttercup but it still retains the come hither essence of a dog who is willing to take a chance on animal love. She approaches me slowly, with a wiggly-wag that sends a knock-out punch to my already numb brain. She pauses for a moment and gives me a wink. She informs me, in a low seductive voice, that her name is Babette.
Hoochie-mama! Love is in the air and I’m inhaling it deeply.
My heart is thumping, like a construction worker’s jackhammer. In an attempt to impress my fantasy come true and trying to look as cool as I can, I jump up, standing proudly erect for a brief moment on my strong hind legs.
It is at this moment that her bewitching eyes leave mine and drift down to the void between my back legs… where my family jewels were once proudly housed. Babette blinks in apparent disbelief and then barks out a hearty, bitchy laugh. She pivots to leave and then… poof… she disappears in a lavender fog of lilac scented smoke. I stand there, droopy-tailed and humiliated. That’s when I wake, heart pounding and dripping in puppy sweat.
What does this all mean? Why does it feel so real? Am I cursed to live forever in the constant shame and anxiety of… whoa… there’s a frisky gray squirrel in the yard, near the birdbath! Gotta go. See ya.
Ozzie