Parental Advisory: This dream is Rated R for Graphic Violence and Disturbing Images
I'm somehow floating over the bathroom, I guess, as a ghost. I will call it "the" bathroom although I have no idea where I was or whose house I was in. The extreme despair/guilt that I'm about to describe myself feeling may indicate that it was mine.
At any rate, a small, friendly kitten is in the bathtub, hunched together near the drain, eyes wide open and hissing to the outside of the tub where a light brown dog is. The dog jumps in and they fight for two seconds. This whole thing is generally a blur, but at some point the dog sinks his teeth into the kitten's body. The next thing I know, the dog has jumped back out of the tub, pacing around as if he's just looking for a spot to sit down and pass the day in, and the kitten has become a loose collection of some intestines, a piece of his backbone sticking out, one of his feet turned inward towards what used to be his body, the tail mysteriously gone and his semi-disconnected head showing a face of lowered eyes and an agape mouth, as if he was using his last bit of energy to howl for help.
Now.....I love cats. I love dogs. I love pretty much all animals except poisonous ones and skunks. I also love those dishes best served cold and could care less about natural selection. So, at this point, after I've become a full, embodied person and have landed on the bathrug in front of the sink, it's just a matter of deciding whether I'm going to use a black, iron pan or a sledgehammer to knock the dog's skull back through his rib cage and out of his ass. But this is secondary. I kneel next to the bathtub and look, and my heart is heavier than two Lincoln Navigators piled on top of each other with 5 passengers in them each, all of which weigh over 450 lbs. I cannot, for the life of me, believe that I let this happen. My throat has a knot in it, my stomach is quivering, and my face is soaked with warm tears and mucus, but this is all drowned out from me repeatedly saying "what....what the....awww, come....." and looking all over the place. Even breathing becomes something of a task and the amount of guilt and grief I feel is a limit that only a certain supernatural being can carry without definitely committing suicide.
Now for some reason, my subconscious switches to the image of dawn. The sun is just peeking up over some hillside forest, the tiny delineations of shine poking away at a looming steel grey morning. I think, since this picture came up, my conscious brain decided to tell me that I was in a cabin in a clearing on the side of a mountain.
There's notably thin smoke billowing from the chimney, although I don't remember any lit fireplaces. I do however, remember that I now look like Robbie Coltrane (Rubeus Hagrid in the Harry Potter films) dressed like Paul Bunyan. I know it's me because my consciousness is within this body (I think, therefore I......am?). There is also another cat.
At the point that I come into the dream, the
See, I noted the point at which I came into the narrative of the dream because for some reason I already knew that this blemish-to-other-humans/moral tragedy of the kitten was committed by none other than a pack of wolves......who were circling and still waiting for something or other when I stepped outside. I look at them, and they, tongues hanging, corners of their eyes curled up in malevolent intent and staring with hungry countenances, studied me. I stood for a moment, went back inside to gently place the kitten on the suede couch, and returned to the circle of predators.
Now.....I love cats. I love dogs. I love pretty much all animals except poisonous ones and skunks. I also love those dishes best served cold and could care less about natural selection. So, at this point, I walk to the center of their circle and say something along these lines to them. I throw forth the double barrel of my firearm, making sure that fresh, explosive shells full of buck are in each one of them. I cock it back into place, and I remember saying "You gotta pay." Time for attack.
For some reason, I'm now a boxer dressed precisely as Mr. Stallone was during his character's training in what was probably the only good film he's ever done.
The wolves are quickening their pace around me.
When one leaps, I have to pugilistically assault the mid-section.
When it leaps.
I got my fists up, doing my own sidesteps and preparing myself.
Streams of warm, wispy breath shooting in lines out of my nostril, spanish bull style.
One begins coming towards me.
I sidestep right on time and deliver a right-hook to the ribcage that Ali himself would be proud to call me son for. The wolf tumbles on the floor and rolls, wiggling itself around furiously to regain footing. Whilst looking at him, a wolf decides to run up from behind and assault me. No sweat. I turn on my pivot foot and deliver a sweet roundhouse kick to his neck. Another comes. As it jumps on me, I grab his paws, place my foot on his stomach and roll backwards on the ground, leg throwing him right down the hillside. When I get up from the ground I'm Robbie Coltrane/Paul Bunyan again, replete with sawed-off shotgun.
The wolves are now scrambling all over the place, but my intuition tells me that there is one that is planning to run right past me, into my cabin and right to that suede couch for a quick snack. It's one that's sitting across from me, prepping itself to make the dash as soon as I turn around. But how will it run when..........BANG! The explosion of the buck echoes all up and down the mountain, causing a flock of crows to fly out of a nearby fir trees and a deer licking at a pond somewhere to look up.
I don't kill him, but I definitely put one arm out of service. The rest of the pack have scattered away.
As I slowly walk over to him with my amiable sawed-off rested upon my shoulder, I kneel down and look him, laying on his side and flopping his hanging-by-a-bone paw around in pain, whining and looking at me with sad eyes of regret. "I don't care how you guys work around here...." is what I remember saying, before I woke up and immediately began to type this post.