Date of dream: Thursday, September 08, 2011
Level of Lucidity:
N/A
Level of Cohesiveness: 
Lucid Intent?
No
This dream has been viewed 177 times.
From an approximately hourlong nap upright in my bed.
It was nighttime, I sense rather late, and I was at home with both parents. The lighting in the house throughout the dream was almost consistently yellowish and warm, not terribly bright, but pleasant, so corners and such were thrown into shadow. It might have been different in my room at first as I don't think the light was yellow there--either it was cooler and dimmer, or else my light was off and it was just light coming in from the hallway--again, not yellow, but cool bluish light--just enough to see things in general. I was standing looking out my right west ("northwest") window, which overlooks the front porch. The front porch is a sort of stoop with a few steps leading to a sidewalk running under my windows, where bamboo grows; beside the porch, which has an iron railing, is a largish bush of some type, and there are frequently different animals to be seen both during the day and at night. I was just staring out my window curiously, as if awaiting to see something.
I at last spotted some movement down in the bush, in this little space under the branches that opens up over one of the porch steps; animals like raccoons and skunks frequently use this little area to crawl out onto the step. I couldn't tell what this animal was but it was about the size of a raccoon or large cat. I could see just a bit of fur, and some movement as it snuffled around the ground. Perhaps I thought it was a raccoon at first, since that seemed most logical; I waited rather impatiently for it to show itself.
At last it poked its head out through the hole in the bush; I think it withdrew it, then poked it out again, then came out completely. (It seemed at points like there was no porch, no steps, just bare earth, but I'm not sure.) I was completely perplexed, for I had no idea what it was. It was catlike, and doglike, yet neither. In size, as I said, it was about that of a medium to largish raccoon or a large cat; it had a longish body and short legs, large pricked ears and a long muzzle rather like a corgi (I did not think of corgis in the dream, though that's the one animal it most resembled), though at first its face was a bit rounder around the edges, more like a cat's; it became more canine as the dream went on. It was primarily a tawny sort of color, but there were variations, perhaps darker brown and maybe reddish; it had very dark brown, nearly black, markings, maybe white ones too, forming odd patterns of both broken stripes and spots upon its back and face. It peered out of the bush shyly, but then seemed to grow bolder, and came out and into full view, onto the sidewalk right below my window (a clearer view than in reality) so I had a good look at it from almost directly above. I figured it must be some kind of strange exotic wild animal I'd never seen before; I pored over the spots and stripes on its back, trying to make out a distinct pattern I could remember when I went looking around in a wildlife book or online to identify its species. (In retrospect this makes little sense, since fur patterns aren't often needed to identify mammals, though coloring patterns on birds are frequently useful in determining species; see my comment on birds below.) Unfortunately I couldn't seem to find a distinct pattern, though I know there must have been one, for the spots and stripes were symmetrical on both sides; they just seemed rather random even though there would be several stripes gathered parallel in one area, and some spots in another. I just couldn't make out a pattern I could retain to identify later. This frustrated me; it made me think of when I see a new strange bird, and try to take in all the distinct characteristics, but I always seem to miss things like beak color or particular patterns on the wings and rump, etc., which are given as identifiers in bird books. Well, this was the same way. I felt that I'd never be able to identify it if I couldn't figure out its distinct fur pattern, but I just couldn't find one. I then wondered how I would even identify it online, probably with Wikipedia, because I had nothing to start with. I could hardly type up, "What is that animal that's kind of like a cat and kind of like a dog, with all these spots and stripes, called?" Even if it turned out to be merely a local species, I couldn't figure out how to narrow it down.
(I'll take a moment to say here that the patterns of spots and stripes were vaguely reminiscent of the spots on a fawn, whose purpose is to break up the color of the fur to better disguise the animal on the forest floor. I think this creature's markings were mostly dark, but the concept was about the same.)
This creature was so weird, I started to think, it can't possibly be indigenous as I'd first thought it was; perhaps it was an escapee from a zoo, or somebody's exotic pet. (I didn't think the latter until later, even though it makes more sense, seeing as there are no zoos around here!) It looked up at last at my window. I'm hazy on what and how it happened, but I think maybe it stood on its hind legs, leaning against the house with its front ones, and was scrabbling to try to reach my window, making me uneasy because I wasn't sure if it was friendly or not; somehow it got into the house with me, I just don't remember how. (The thought of it trying to get at my window might be just a guess; I'm not sure if it really happened.) In any case, now it was with me inside, and I was quite curious to figure out its story.
My parents seemed rather uneasy that I had this strange animal in the house, when none of us were sure how tame it was or not. I felt it must be friendly, based on how docilely it was acting, but even I was being wary, not making any sudden or invasive moves toward it. It was like I kept it nearby or else it stayed nearby, maybe a combination of both--I think at first it was staying near me, then I was the one keeping it close. I believe at one point it got particularly clingy, maybe sidling right up to my leg, and my parents might have made some kind of joke about this. As I walked around the house, first it was closely following, but then I ended up following it, mostly, as it seemed to grow terribly distracted or uninvolved.
Now that I was so close to this animal and was even holding onto it with both arms at times, I got a closer look. Its fur was mostly rather short, like that on a dog such as a German shepherd--I think at first all its fur was short--but then there were fringes of longer fur like that on a Shetland sheepdog, maybe, like perhaps around the face or ruff or tail. (I don't recall what its tail was like whatsoever.) As I said, it was both catlike and doglike, but I decided it must be some sort of canine or else a species closer to the canine family than feline, like foxes, perhaps. I also figured it must be an exotic and not an indigenous animal since it was just too bizarre to be found roaming around in Michigan.
I entered the dining room with this animal, not far from the entry into the kitchen. The dining room was oddly different in a way I can't quite describe; it's like what constitutes the furniture in that room wasn't present--e. g., the table to the left, and the computer cabinet, and the dresser and ironing board and little dresser-thingie to the right. There might have been something along the walls but it wasn't obtrusive. The room just seemed much more open than it really is, even though it was about the same size. The warm, kind of dim, yellowish lighting was in here too even though in reality the ceiling light in this room doesn't work; I'm not sure if it was this room's light or the kitchen light making its way in, though it seemed too bright to be the latter. Although the room seemed cleaner, there seemed to be plastic grocery bags scattered all over the floor; even in the dream I found this a bit disconcerting, for it seemed really messy, and the plastic might collect disgusting things, but I said nothing. By now the animal had gotten kind of distracted and kept trying to wander off or pull loose from me, so it was rather a struggle just keeping a hold of it; it wasn't fighting me or doing anything violent, but it was hard to hold onto for some reason, like it could easily extricate itself. I kept wrapping my right arm around it and holding on with the left hand with much difficulty, and had to keep getting hold of it again.
It occurred to me to wonder if it had a collar. If it had a collar, that meant it belonged to somebody. I'm pretty sure that at first it had had no collar, but now that I looked harder, I found a narrow band around its neck, with a little round metal tag (kind of thick and rounded or smoothed off at the edges, a brassy color maybe with (unintentional) staining of another color in places). Excellent! The animal's name was on the tag. I can't recall reading the exact name, not even in the dream, but I kept referring to it as something like "Gayesha," maybe with a somewhat more complex spelling ("Gay'Esha," or some such?), so that's what I thought its name was. I had trouble reading the tag with how the animal was moving around so much; the tag was rather small, about the size of a nickel, and the animal's fur got in the way at points. We might have wandered around a bit more. I then wanted to see if there was other identifying info on the tag, such as a number to call. I managed to get hold of it and turn it upward so I could see it--I think I was reading things sideways or upside-down--and I was surprised to see that the animal's name was not Gayesha after all--it was Ganesha. I was just about positive it had earlier been Gayesha or whatever, but now it wasn't.
"Hey," I exclaimed aloud so my parents could hear, "its name isn't Gayesha, it's Ganesha, like the elephant god!" Immediately I wondered if I should correct myself to say something more precise, like "elephant-headed Hindu (Indian) god," since "elephant god" seemed really imprecise, I know practically nothing about Hinduism but to refer to Ganesha simply as an "elephant god" seems way too simplistic and, I thought in the dream, disrespectful. I hate misinterpreting and disrespecting other people's belief systems. My parents wouldn't care, but it niggled at me; I'd already said it, though, so I didn't clarify myself. I'm not sure, but I think I'd been about positive earlier that this creature was female for some reason; I probably wondered about this, finding that its name was Ganesha, which is a male name. So, was it a female with a male name (though the name "Gayesha" seemed female to me), or was it in fact a male? I can't be positive on this detail since, as I said, I'm not sure if I did believe it was female earlier on. The feeling I had/have toward it was neutral or else male, though that doesn't necessarily mean anything; I just tend to connect with males more closely in dreams and my writing.
I was reluctant to pet the animal, though I wanted to, so I rubbed its head. It was friendly. I bent down and gave it a quick kiss atop the head and then pulled back, thinking, I REALLY shouldn't have done that, haven't I learned anything?--I was embarrassed that my parents might have seen me do that and thought about how stupid I was. (In reality long ago I petted a strange dog tied up outside a building downtown; it let me pet it, but its ears were back, which I knew even at the time meant it was afraid and possibly aggressive. I bent down to kiss it atop the head and as I pulled back up, it lunged at my face, missing me by inches. I just walked back to the car, feeling more embarrassed than anything that the owner or somebody might have seen that happen; to this day, I know better, and still feel incredibly stupid that I did something so...incredibly stupid. My reaction to kissing the strange animal in the dream was directly related to this older incident.)
The strange animal didn't react hostilely when I kissed it, so that was a relief. It was more detached and distracted than anything; it was acting nice, like maybe wagging its tail if it had one, but its mind was simply on other things.
Again in the dining room with its yellowish light and plastic bags, I had trouble restraining the animal as I wished to look at the tag a second time to find the owner's number. While I was thus engaged (I seemed first to be closer to the middle of the room, where the old small animal tank used to be, then I was over near the kitchen entrance, facing that little dresser-type thing), one of my parents made some sort of comment I can't recall; I think they thought I had plans to keep this animal, and while they didn't offer any threats along the lines of "That animal is NOT staying in this house!" it was more like questions asking how I planned to care for it or something; not so direct. My reaction was like "Oh, of course I'm not keeping it! I'd never know what to do with it," and it was true, plus I'm also often like that in reality. I felt kind of sad about having to let it go, but I knew it was for the best, so had no hesitations. Still, I had to find that number.
I'd thought for sure I'd spotted a number earlier when I saw Ganesha's name, but now I saw none. I was quite dismayed; what kind of owner would tag the animal with its name, but no contact information? How was I going to return it to its home? Why wasn't there a number on it? I thought perhaps it was just on the opposite side, so turned the tag over. At some point, a telephone number appeared, either on the back or under Ganesha's name. It was kind of obscured on one part, like the final four digits, as if worn or tarnished but I figured I'd just have to work it out. The first time I saw the number, it might not have in fact been a phone number, since it seemed to be one long number with more than ten digits. I think maybe that form started with a nine. Then it changed and was a local phone number starting with 625 (an accurate prefix, or whatever the first three digits of a seven-digit phone number are called). I got ready to write it down, then wondered if perhaps it had been 627 (another accurate prefix)? The numbers had been hard to read and the final of the three especially so. It had looked more like a five, so I started writing this down on something. I was having trouble writing because it didn't seem to be a regular piece of paper; it was like writing on a scrap (maybe damp, definitely oddly shaped) or one of the plastic bags or something, with a pencil. It was not a convenient material to write on but it was all I could find. I looked at the number again to get the next digits, and saw that now it was in fact 623! "I've never heard of that prefix," I believe I thought, confused. (623 is a nonexistent prefix.) Well...I jotted down the change in number over what I'd already written, though it was like I had to rewrite two numbers and not one. I didn't erase, I just overwrote them; it was difficult to tell which numbers were right since I hadn't written over them that hard, so I tried to darken the print of the correct number. I felt the incorrect numbers still showed through too much, so, growing frustrated, attempted to erase it so I wouldn't misread it later. I think even erasing gave me trouble; as I said, maybe this scrap or whatever was damp and hard to write on and erase. I worried that the number might not be local, seeing as 623 isn't a local prefix; but then I figured it must be, seeing as it was so similar to 625 and 627. For some reason I wondered if maybe it was just down the road from us, east back on G. Road; I don't know what made me wonder that.
I just realized something very inaccurate with this dream that I didn't notice earlier. I mentioned how 625 was the first of the set of ten numbers given (the phone number was in xxx-xxx-xxxx format), and 625 and 627 are indeed accurate local numbers. HOWEVER, they are NOT the first three digits/area code for this area; those would be 231. Meaning, the number I was jotting down, if local, would have gone something like 231-625(7)-xxxx. In the dream, though, it was like the 625(7) was the first three numbers; I don't recall the 231 at all. I honestly didn't notice this until reaching this part of writing up the dream, not even when I took notes. So there's a weird inaccuracy there.
Anyway...I don't believe I had any trouble with the next three numbers (which in reality would have been 625(7)), though I don't recall what they were; I think perhaps they started with 9. The final four started giving me trouble again. I seemed to be facing the living room now, though I was still at the far end of the dining room, sitting or crouching on the floor. I must have been looking at the tag, but it's like it was detached or not a tag anymore at all, for I wasn't holding onto Ganesha while doing this. It was more like a plastic bag or a scrap, like what I'd been writing on, and it was bigger. I had great difficulty reading these numbers. I had to keep moving this "tag" around to see the numbers, which were faint and worn and jotted down quickly by hand in pencil. I have written down "wonder about 623 again?"--the question mark means I'm not sure if I really did this in the dream, and I can't recall that by now; if I did, I was probably worrying, since the last four numbers were so difficult, that I'd gotten the first three wrong after all. In any case, it seemed I could read only three of the remaining four numbers, then I couldn't read even that many. I tried very, very hard to make them out. I believe it started with a one and had at least two zeroes; I was just about positive I saw three zeroes jotted down, but then I saw that I already had two numbers (maybe 19?) written down on my scrap, so it must be only two zeroes at most, otherwise it would've been too long for a phone number. I could not commit to this thought, however, since I was almost positive I'd seen three zeroes. That final zero really, really bugged me. I was so confused and frustrated. I decided to just write down two zeroes; I would attempt to call this number I'd spent so much time cobbling together, and would hope that it would lead me to Ganesha's owner; if it didn't work, all I could do was try the different variations I'd gone over. I was very concerned about finding whoever owned this creature, and the thought that I might not find them bothered me.
I was still debating the exact phone number when I awoke.
Real-life associations: Please compare this dream to "Raccoon Dog." The two dreams are very close in many details, closer than I'd thought they were before rereading the older dream; I even describe the raccoon dog's body shape as being like that of a corgi.
"Ganesha's" behavior of standing up and trying to reach my window, if in fact it did that, is reminiscent of what the abandoned baby raccoon (see "My Baby Raccoon...Fox...Elephant?" and "Animal Baby Buddies") did a while back when it was still visiting (haven't seen it in quite a while); one night it was sticking close to the side of the porch closest my window as I looked out and talked to it, and it kept looking up at me and seeming to try to get close; I think it might have climbed on the stool a couple of times as if to get closer too, though it was quite clumsy and fell both times while getting down. I found this kind of cute, kind of pathetic, and kind of unsettling, as I felt in the dream; I didn't want it to think it could come in the house.
No close personal associations for Ganesha; all I consciously know of him is he has an elephant head. I've likely read bits and pieces about him somewhere along the way but have forgotten them. I just looked him up in the dictionary and it says he's the "god of wisdom and problem solving," the son of Shiva and Parvati (the latter of which means little to me since I have great difficulty keeping all the Hindu gods straight, seeing as, to my knowledge, they're often different aspects of each other). Probably the only reason I know of him in the first place is because he's so distinctive looking. The only other time I can recall a specific reference to a Hindu deity in my dreams is 1996's "The Interrupted Bath & The Evil Hanuman." (The dictionary doesn't refer to Hanuman as a god, though I always thought he was, so...)
Trouble with numbers, especially telephone numbers, is common in my dreams; I consider it odd when they DON'T give me trouble. However, usually such dreams involve me actually dialing the number in question; I never used the phone in this dream. I chalk this up to the near-impossibility of reading the same thing twice in a dream, though trouble with phones is also said to possibly indicate trouble with interpersonal communication (something which is no news to me).
Date of dream: Monday, September 05, 2011
Level of Lucidity:
N/A
Level of Cohesiveness:
Lucid Intent?
No
This dream has been viewed 183 times.
Fragmentary and muddled. Was a bit more coherent right after I had it, and there was probably more to it; it's kind of lame, but seeing as I haven't remembered any other dreams well enough for over a month...!
I believe it was daytime and overcast outside; probably the same time of year as in reality. My dad informed me he had a surprise for me, as if it were a holiday or my birthday or something, since it didn't strike me as being just out of the blue. Now, I react oddly to gifts. Since my parents never know what to get me anymore, they'll often get me things that I have no idea what to do with (sorry for the bad grammar); it's the thought that counts, but I'm very bad at showing enthusiasm for things I don't really want or need, so I always feel terribly awkward when gifts are given and rather wish I could just open them in private and NOT have anyone ask me what I think. In the dream, this reaction held. I kind of didn't want to go along with Dad to see what he'd made me (for I'm almost positive it was something he made, not bought), lest it be something I had no use for, but I also didn't want to be rude, so I followed.
We went upstairs into my brother Eric's old bedroom. The upstairs was almost completely clean again, the way it was shortly after my brother moved out (in reality the upstairs has looked like a house on Hoarders for years now). This didn't strike me as odd. I distinctly remember the burnt-orangish carpeting of Eric's old room (true to reality), and I believe the walls were still dark (as in reality). When we got in here I turned so I faced the entry again. Beside the wall to my left (on the right when entering), closer to the corner nearest the entrance, was some sort of large contraption that vaguely reminded me of an artist's easel. It was perhaps a bit taller than I am (five feet). There was a sort of frame made out of narrow slats/boards of wood, horizontal and diagonal; it also at points kind of resembled a pentagram. In the middle of this there was a lifesize wolf's head--also presumably made of wood, though it was more carved, but still kind of rough and basic in design. I think it seemed kind of out of place compared to the plain wooden boards upon which it was set. The entire device, boards and wolf head and all, was spray-painted silver. There might have in addition been something on it having to do with American Indians, like a general design or feathers or some such, or perhaps the wolf's head was meant to indicate this. (I'm not POSITIVE about the American Indian influence, but I think of it. The way the wolf's head was set in the middle of the network of wooden boards was vaguely reminiscent of a dreamcatcher.) I also believe there were electrical cords wound about it in places; these either had little lights on them, or led to lights that lit this structure up when turned on. In particular the cords, not quite as much but still so the entire structure, was rather tacky in my opinion, but I could not say so since Dad had put so much effort into it and he seemed rather pleased with it.
I think I'd been kind of expecting a gift, as I already mentioned, so this wasn't a surprise. I exclaimed over it to make Dad happy, though I wasn't as thrilled as I felt I should be, and I couldn't overenthuse about it even though I wanted to. Dad didn't seem to notice, so that was a relief. I think he started describing parts of it, such as the construction and the meaning of it and why and how he'd made it. I sat down Indian-style on the floor as he did so. I think I felt something small and grainy poking into my leg so I shifted and poked about with my finger to pick it up. It was a tiny seed bead or whatever (Delica?) like the ones my mother uses, and I knew that it in fact was hers. It was copper colored. I looked at the floor and saw one or two more, then more here and there, as if they'd been spilled over time, though not huge amounts of them, just scattered beads here and there. I rather hoped Dad didn't think I was ignoring him as I looked around and collected these beads one by one; I probably made a comment now and then to make it clear I was still listening, even though I wasn't looking at him. At last when there was a short lull I held up the beads and remarked about them probably being lost by Ma, and thought that I should return them to her.
I was holding about three beads by now, though there were more on the floor. There was the original copper bead; the other two were also supposed to be copper, but as I looked at them, they weren't so coppery looking anymore, instead being a bit faded/tarnished as if the copper were merely a coloring/coating; one was more of a dull brassy color. They were rather worn and not very pretty; I started to think it wouldn't be worth it to return them to Ma since they were in such a state; maybe she hadn't retrieved them herself for a reason. I think some of the other beads on the floor were other colors, in particular a kind of dark blue, but still, not too many for her to feel any great loss. So I tossed back the few beads that I'd already collected and decided to instead tell Ma that I'd seen them there on the upstairs floor, so she could collect them herself if she wished, otherwise we could save ourselves the trouble. Throughout this, my cat, Cosmas, might have been with us but I'm not positive. I think perhaps we then went back downstairs, and I spent a good part of the dream trying to figure out where I would put this large wooden "sculpture" and what I would do with it, since it seemed merely decorative and not of any other use than aesthetic.
In another part (I can't recall transitions between scenes, nor what order they went in), I was outside with Coz; it was still overcast and daytime. We were near the woods to the south of the house. Coz started walking toward the trees--the ground between them wasn't as cluttered with undergrowth and such as it is in reality, so it was easier to go between the trees. Now, Coz isn't supposed to wander off into the woods, which are not our property; I have to keep a close eye on him as he's not an outdoors cat and will wander off if left alone. In addition, he doesn't come when called, and even if he's sitting right nearby and can see you looking for him, he won't announce himself, he'll just sit there silently and watch until you find him. It's very irksome. So when he headed for the woods, I called him to stop and come back. He ignored me, and in fact even picked up his pace, trotting in a quite determined manner. Irritated, I hurried to follow him, still calling out for him to stop.
Coz trotted between the trees and toward the neighbor's yard, getting quite close, so much so that I grew alarmed lest I have to trespass to fetch him. I was having difficulty keeping up; I think there were some saplings in my way, and maybe boulders or a tree stump or some such. I had to dodge around trees. Even though I was focused on retrieving the cat, I noticed how beautiful the woods were, the young trees and the orange leaf cover on the undulating ground, largish boulders here and there (there are no boulders in the woods in reality, though I think the neighbor has one in his yard); it was much neater than in reality and I thought it was so pretty. (See also "Big Two-Rivered Woods.") Too bad I couldn't enjoy it, what with the cat running away from me and all. He would not stop no matter how much I threatened him. We'd almost reached the neighbor's yard when I finally managed to cut him off, I believe, and made him turn and head back toward our house. He was quite tractable now and went back without too much prompting. I noticed that we were now following some sort of rough little dirt path (the dirt seemed a bit loose at the mouth of it, where it widened atop a little rise before reaching our property beyond the woods, near the side of the garage); it was quite distinct, grayish-brown soil, about a couple of feet wide. It seemed both freshly made and well worn at the same time. I puzzled over this trail as we used it to walk into our yard; I hadn't noticed it before, so where had it come from? It had obviously been here for at least a bit. Although puzzled by its sudden appearance, I thought it nice to be there, and it could be useful in the future to take this instead of blunder through the trees. I should state it did not seem to be a full path--it just kind of started not far from our property and went on several yards before ending at the edge of the woods. (I believe it was contained entirely within the woods.)
In another part, I was in my bedroom, sitting on my bed. It was still daytime; my room was dim so the light wasn't on, and maybe some of my blinds were drawn. I was wondering where I should put that wooden wolf-thing Dad had made me. I glanced at my room to see if I had the space. As in reality, my room was clean, though a bit cramped (also true). The layout was rather odd compared to reality; a lot of stuff was positioned so that I wasn't making very good use of the available space. Instead of the deep bookshelf I have in the northwest corner where my file cabinets used to be, I think there might have instead been a wooden dresser or two. (A wooden dresser used to be there years ago; another dresser was at the other side of the room.) I believe they were set forward from the wall so there was a sizeable space behind them of at least several inches wide, plus they were not flush with the west wall, so there was space there too; the corner itself was open. I briefly thought about what a waste of space this was, though I felt I must have had my reasons when I did it. Perhaps there was something sitting in the space behind the dresser(s). Near these, where the stackable plastic bins are in reality (I hope to move them soon), under my northwest window (in fact the west window on the right), I think there were still see-through plastic bins, though they were not the same as the real ones; maybe they were those plastic towers with drawers in them. There was at least one, maybe more. Perhaps a foot or a bit more wide, around three feet tall. The plastic wasn't purely see through but it wasn't opaque either. I thought this, too, wasn't making good use of space, so perhaps it should be moved, though I didn't know where.
I noticed the open corner between these two--a corner which the bookshelf covers in reality--and it was like my room was somewhat bigger, because the window wasn't directly over this space. The room still had deep-pile carpeting. There were a couple of smallish cardboard boxes sitting in this corner, I believe, something that could be easily moved. I knew I had a reason for keeping those boxes there but I wondered if that would be a decent spot for the wooden contraption; I rather liked the thought of having a purely decorative corner. Oddly, at this point the wooden wolf-thing was more like a smallish Christmas tree than anything; at least, that's how I pictured it sitting in this corner.
I ultimately decided I didn't want to waste the space on a decorative item. That was a space I could dedicate to books. At some point around in here I believe there was a mental image, if not a real occurrence, of a linoleum floor (offwhite with dark lines like grout around tiles?) in front of this area (not sure if it was still dressers, or the bookshelf, it seemed to be the latter), and either there were some books sitting on the floor in a few small stacks or I was considering doing this. The point was, I wanted to dedicate any open space possible to my beloved books, so there was no real room for the thing Dad had made. I might have figured I'd left this corner open for a reason anyway.
I wondered if I should move the stuff around over there to at least free up useful space, considering how much was going to waste. For example, put the dressers flush with the wall, maybe fill in the corner or move the plastic bin/tower(s).
Throughout this I was seated on my bed facing my west windows. I now looked to my left, where in reality I now have two tall five-shelf bookshelves loaded with my Indian- and Great Lakes-themed books. Prior to these, before my room was cleaned, this area had been taken up by two much shorter three-shelf bookshelves, a cardboard box loaded with a very tall stack of journals in the right corner when facing all this, and a wooden CD rack/stand to the left. When these had been there, the shelves had been set away from the wall by several inches so I could set, say, a cup of water on them to reach for at night when in bed, but in truth it was a waste of space; when I cleaned my room, I took out the journals and CD stand, moved the three-shelvers elsewhere, and replaced them with the big shelves which I put up flush with not only the wall but the corner (where the journals used to be stacked). As a result, they're further away from the bed, but it's much more convenient and nicer looking. It's also nice not to have this narrow space back there where things can fall and dirt can accumulate that I can't reach.
In the dream, it was as if the previous arrangement had somehow returned. My tall shelves were gone and in their place, again, were two smaller shelves; they were shallower (front to back) than the real shelves (which are now located elsewhere in my room), and I don't believe there was the journal stack or the CD stand, but aside from that it was almost exactly like it used to be, with them sitting away from the wall by a narrow space. Even in the dream I puzzled over this. What confused me even more was the fact that both shelves were completely empty. There wasn't a single book or ANYTHING on them or even atop them. Just two barren shelves. This was so perplexing. Here I'd been worrying about wasting space for books when right beside me were two perfectly useful bookshelves, devoid of books! Why hadn't I made use of them? I had a brief wonderful thought of filling them up with books that were accumulating elsewhere, but then thought, perhaps these shelves, like some (including their taller replacements) in reality, were meant to be used to shelve particular books, books on certain subjects; e. g., the two tall ones beside my bed in reality are devoted solely to books having to do with Northeastern Indians, the Great Lakes, New France and the fur trade, things such as that; a similar tall shelf elsewhere hosts my books on MPD/DID and ritual abuse, and dreams and Jungian psychology, and then creative writing, each subject separated from each other; two other shelves, including one of the old three-shelvers, are devoted to Egypt-themed books (the smaller shelf--actually only part of it is taken up so far) and Lovecraftiana. The big deep shelf where the dresser(s) were in the dream holds all the miscellaneous stuff. The thought of mixing up my other particular subjects galls me, even if it does mean better utilizing book space, which has grown scarce. (The miscellaneous shelf hosts books three deep and stacked atop each other and atop the shelf and it is practically OUT OF SPACE.)
Well, in the dream, I suspected that these two shelves had been left empty in anticipation of me putting books of a particular theme on them. So I was reluctant to put anything else on them. But then I reasoned, does it REALLY matter? I know how my books are organized, and where to find them. I could still keep them separated even if they were "mixed" on the same shelf, similar to what I've done on the shelf with the DID books etc. (In reality, having to put three subjects on the one shelf irks me. Did I mention it too is out of space? Ditto the Lovecraft shelf, and the Indian-themed ones are nearly there.) If it meant I could organize more books, I should make use of the space however I could, rather than let it sit unused while books were looking for a place to be put. So I was likely going to use them anyway, and considered it a nice stroke of luck to suddenly be presented with so much useable space.
The shallowness of the shelves worried me, however. They could very easily tip right over onto the bed, especially loaded full of books, as they were surely soon to be. I almost certainly wouldn't be able to put books atop them, either. I sat there and mulled over either starting out on the bottom shelves, or else putting the biggest, heaviest books there, to prevent toppling (something I did in reality, even though it niggled at me to separate the oversized books, since I like things organized alphabetically, but many of them won't fit on the higher shelves anyway--so bothersome!), but I felt this wouldn't resolve the problem, the shelves were so shallow. So I was indecisive about what to do. I still wondered why on Earth I'd set them so far away from the wall, wasting so much space. The question, what became of my shelves full of Indian books? might have passed through my mind, a brief moment of near-lucidity that didn't fully develop.
At some point my mother might have returned from somewhere; perhaps Dad and I went outside to greet her and stood talking on the pavement near her car or some such. If we did, it was still overcast. Unsure if this happened or if that's exactly how it happened.
In the part I believe occurred before I awoke, my parents and I were all seated in the living room. It was still daytime, though I'm unsure whether it was overcast or not; it probably was. Dad was in his spot on the couch, I was in mine, and Ma was in her chair, beading or some such as Dad and I watched TV and maybe ate. Ma suddenly made some kind of snarky comment that I can't recall; it might have been along the lines of "So, are you guys enjoying those cushions?" though there was something more jokey about it. Dad and I looked at her; the question puzzled me at first as I took it seriously. I then realized what she was referring to. Both Dad and I were seated upon, in addition to the couch cushions, some other cushions which were kind of darkish brick red, maybe with thin fiber stripes of another color. They were big and square like regular couch cushions. I had one, Dad had two; they were rather squished beneath our weight. I think, oddly, they were positioned UNDER the regular couch cushions (impossible in reality, due to a couch cover), though I'm unsure.
I realized now that Ma was joking more than anything, though there was a grain of truth in her comment; it was a feeling of Dad and me having these nice comfortable cushions that she'd missed out on, perhaps because she hadn't been present earlier, maybe when Dad had given me my gift. It was like she was coveting our cushions and so made a comment like "You sure like those comfy cushions, huh?"--hint-hint, like that. I don't think all of this was the EXACT situation but it was along those lines. Now that I realized she'd been joking (even if she did rather envy us our cushions), I laughed somewhat belatedly. I did feel a bit bad that she didn't have one of her own, and wondered if she wanted one of ours despite the obvious joke in her comment; it was like she'd been left out of something Dad and I had gotten since we'd been there and she hadn't. The cushions made me think somehow of the upstairs bedroom, maybe the carpeting (though the carpeting is burnt orange and these cushions were more brick red), so perhaps they came from up there, and since Ma hadn't been present when we'd been up there, maybe that was why she'd missed out.
There might have been something in or throughout the dream having to do with a little boy similar to the barebones character "Tate" from my unwritten story Missing Pieces, but I'm not sure. (In the story, Tate is a boy whose family has gone missing, perhaps murdered, and detectives spend the story searching for them unsuccessfully; I believe my character Det. Kristeva (see for example "Remembering Other Rooms," "Kristeva's Pool & Ma's Beads," and "My Own Missing Time") and his wife Natalie end up taking him in, first informally, then adopting him when his family can't be found. This is significant, as Kristeva has vowed since before getting married that he never wants kids, lest he be abusive toward them as his father was toward him. I think that if there was such a boy in the dream, his situation was similar, in that he was alone and needed protecting.)
Real-life associations: Nothing immediate. The odd wooden wolf-head contraption reminds me very, very vaguely of a Baphomet pentagram that appeared in a much older dream of mine ("Anton LaVey Slept Here"), though I'm not sure why, the only real similarity is the animal head in the middle and perhaps the pentagram shape. My dad really carves things, but nothing like that in the dream. I believe copper beads would be something my mother would covet, since she likes to work with copper; the color tarnishing or fading is similar to the occasional times when the color wears off beads of hers, which she finds annoying. She particularly has this problem with gold-colored beads.
I believe it wasn't too long before this dream (this is typed up later) that I in fact had to chase Coz into the woods when he bolted in there after one of the three little black cats that have been visiting our property. I had to go into the woods further than made me comfortable, and it was difficult, what with the tangles of saplings and undergrowth; Coz didn't listen to me in the least when I yelled at him to stop. When I reached him and started to shoo him back toward the house, he did his typical thing of stopping to sniff at the ground as if it's terribly fascinating, and I had to nudge him to get him moving. I have to keep a closer eye on him now since he'll so readily run off after things, especially with those little black cats around. I would love to wander in those woods and take pictures and such, but they aren't ours, I hate trespassing, and I'd hate to talk to the neighbor.
I have no idea why the layout of my bedroom reverted so much; perhaps just an indication of my desire for more book space.
The corner which was mostly open in the dream--this used to be taken up by file cabinets; after cleaning I dragged the huge deep bookshelf from the other side of the room to stand there. In the meantime, as I cleaned the room and resituated things, this corner was left empty for a brief time; I remember stepping into it and looking around my room from a vantage point I hadn't had in many years, if ever. I temporarily placed a plastic bin there as cleaning progressed. The emptiness of the area where I'd always remembered something being--file cabinets or a dresser--struck me as quite strange.
Date of dream: Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Level of Lucidity:
N/A
Level of Cohesiveness:
Lucid Intent?
No
This dream has been viewed 306 times.
Very vague and muddled.
I'm not sure how it started, but the dream involved the abandoned baby raccoon coming to the porch to eat. (See "Animal Baby Buddies.") It was daytime and overcast out. I believe I got some food for it and went out to feed it myself.
I opened the door and slowly stepped out onto the porch. The baby raccoon was there, but oddly, it was like both a raccoon and a fox, because I believe at some points in the dream I was referring to it as a fox--in fact, I think that was the impression I had right as I awoke, and then I had to remind myself, I haven't been caring for a fox, I've been caring for a raccoon. *shrug* Anyway, it was small, though bigger than the real baby, and with rather dark fur. As soon as it saw me, it didn't run away, but approached me almost without fear, obviously familiar with me. I knew it could be a mistake but I very gingerly reached down to pet it and it let me stroke its fur. I knew that this was in fact not the first time I'd petted it, so the two of us were somewhat used to each other. The raccoon took my hand in its mouth a couple of times, though not in an aggressive way; the first time it just kind of nom-nommed on my hand, chewing without really hurting, but the second time its teeth pressed rather hard and uncomfortably over my right index finger knuckle. The teeth weren't sharp, so there was no piercing pain, but it did hurt a little bit, and I was afraid of the skin breaking and of not only having to get rabies shots, but of facing my father, who would be all "I told you so." I managed to very carefully extricate my hand so all was well.
The dream is rather vague and confusing here. I was putting out food for it to eat on the porch, but it's also like I was putting it on the floor inside the house, perhaps near the chair nearest the porch area; the floor seemed cleaner and more open. I set down a few handfuls of cat food and perhaps the cereal I've been tossing out in reality too; it's a generic kind of Froot Loops. The baby might have started eating, and I might have gone off to do something and left it there.
I returned a bit later to find the baby raccoon restlessly snooping around or attempting to get back out, something like that. I wasn't sure what was wrong at first and worried a bit about its restlessness. I noticed that it had eaten all the food, and thought that perhaps it was still hungry; I was surprised that it could be so ravenous. I wasn't sure if I should give it more food or not, since I could hardly just give food and give food and give food every time it was a little hungry. I finally decided to do so, and started wandering around the house looking for scraps or older/expired food I could give it. Unfortunately, all I could find were some chocolate products, including Reese's Peanut Butter Cups in the utility room, and I knew from looking it up online (as I did recently in reality) that chocolate is no good for raccoons. I said aloud, as if the baby could understand, "I wish I could find something else for you to eat, but you'll just have to find something for yourself right now."
(I believe at one point somewhere in the dream I was actually carrying the baby around the house and cuddling it as if it were a cat; my mother was home, and I was wondering if she would be surprised or concerned to see me just walking around hugging this baby raccoon like it was my pet. It was almost like I wanted to shock her.)
The baby raccoon was amenable to going back outside to seek something to eat. I went out to the back porch door, which was also somehow like the front porch door, to let the raccoon out on its own for a while. The view was of the pavement and somewhat to the south toward the woods. As soon as I opened the outside door, the baby at my feet impatient to get out, I exclaimed, "Eegh!" in surprise, for there was a thin coating of snow all over the ground. It was the wet, sticky kind that doesn't stay around long, but I knew that winter must be on its way. Perhaps in the dream it was October or something, since we tend to get our first snows then. I rather wanted to grab the baby and bring it back in to protect it from the cold, but it was already headed out, ambling kind of toward the woods, the snow not bothering it one bit. It might have been leaving little footprints behind it.
I shuddered at the sight of the snow--I found it a really unpleasant surprise--and called out to the baby, "Good luck. Be careful in the snow!" I was really concerned about its welfare even though it didn't seem worried in the least; I hoped it would be safe.
The baby raccoon turned and started heading down the long driveway in the direction of the highway. That worried me even more. I must have stepped outside and walked across the pavement to keep it in view, though it was kind of like I hadn't yet left the porch, so perhaps that's why the back porch seemed like the front porch. (The back porch is an interior stairway/vestibule facing away from the highway. The front porch is merely an outside stoop with a railing, with the highway in view just to the right.) I hoped the raccoon would keep out of the road, and even called out softly (perhaps I was leery of awakening my dad or something--his bedroom closet is located right above the basement stairwell of the back porch), "Be careful, don't go out in the road!"--but then it did just this, it trotted out into the highway and then kind of dawdled in the nearer, northbound lane. There was no traffic at first, but as soon as the baby went out there, a few cars appeared and began to slow down to avoid hitting it. I think this just surprised the baby even more so instead of getting out of the way it just stayed in the road, unsure whether to continue to the other side or come back. I was both terribly concerned for its welfare, and rather irritated that it had done something so stupid.
Oddly, now the baby seemed to be a baby elephant. *shrug* It was still rather small enough to carry. An SUV, pickup truck, or perhaps a Jeep headed south stopped and pulled over, though it seemed to pull over on the wrong (left) side of the road; I thought I'd remembered it heading north, but in the notes I say south, so it was probably going south. It looked more like a black/dark SUV (with some silver trim?) at first but I can't be sure what it was; it later seemed to have an open bed.
An older woman was driving the vehicle. She had glasses, short, wavy styled hair (light brown/graying), and was rather ugly in a way I can't describe...just snooty looking. The hairstyle and glasses and all. Like she didn't have much of a chin and had jowl lines though she wasn't jowly, just aged, and had this disapproving look on her face. I believe she got out of the vehicle and picked up the baby, which was now a raccoon or a fox again. There was a point when the baby, I believe, seemed to be standing in the bed of the vehicle (now like a pickup) with another animal, but I'm not sure how that fits in. I have written down "then seems to be nearer me," though I'm not sure what that means; I guess I hadn't moved from my spot, but the vehicle and the woman and baby seemed closer, unsure. In any case, when I saw her pick up the baby, I hurried out into the driveway and she saw me.
"Wait!" I exclaimed. "He's somewhat tame. You'll have to let him go so he can find his own food."
The woman had obviously seen me but now she chose to ignore me, as if I weren't even there. She didn't let go of the baby, but started to turn back to the vehicle; I knew she thought she was "rescuing" the animal (this might have been the part where I saw it standing in the back with another animal, possibly another "rescue"), but I also somehow knew, possibly from the haughty, unconcerned look on her face, that she didn't truly care about these animals, didn't feel like she was doing some good, was just picking them up because they were there. I didn't know if she'd be kind or cruel to the animals; she struck me as somebody who would just be neglectful.
As she turned back to her vehicle--I believe there was somebody else in it as well but I never saw them--I knew I had to shout at her to try to get her attention and stop her, but it was as if I was having trouble talking, just kind of sputtering. I threw out my hand and at last, in frustration, managed to shout, "Lady--!"--and then I awoke, still feeling that frustration that she hadn't been listening to me and didn't know what was best for the baby animal.
Real-life associations: See the associations for "Animal Baby Buddies" for info on the baby raccoon. Since then, the baby disappeared from the tree in our front yard, where it--I call it a he--had been living, which was just as well as during a freak windstorm a huge section of the tree fell across the driveway. The damage was pretty bad but it wasn't the rotten section that fell. After crying and agonizing and moving from window to window, I spotted the baby on the porch later that same night so knew he was okay. Some time later, we had the tree cut down, leaving only a tall part of the main trunk, including the rotted section where the raccoon had been living, though I know he won't be back in it since he seemed to have vacated it prior to this. The cutting down of the tree was a terrible experience for me and felt much like having a beloved pet put to sleep; I still can't quite convince myself it won't be back. (See the dreams "Who Will Take The Toppled Tree?" and "Please Don't Cut The Trees" (more related dreams listed therein) for more on this tree.) I also worried about where the raccoon would live; I cleared out a spot under a rotten stump at the edge of the woods but it doesn't seem to have been investigated yet.
I still don't know where the raccoon stays during the day but he occasionally comes around. It has me saddened as, one night when he was nosing around and there was no food, I crept out onto the porch much like I did in the dream, set down a couple of handfuls of cat food, and was able to stand there mere inches away and watch the baby eat--he'd taken one step toward me when I came out, but then shied away a bit, making the hissy sniffing noise raccoons make when they're trying to scent you out, then even giving a tiny growl. He kept his little eyes on me the whole time but other than that just ate the food. I stayed with him until he seemed to be distracted by something behind me, at which I went back inside and left him alone. I thought I'd made a breakthrough there, but since the cutting of the tree he doesn't come around regularly that I'm aware of, and doesn't come by during the daytime anymore, so I can't be sure he's getting enough food. (He has at least two adult raccoons, several adult skunks, and at least two baby skunks to contend with.) The last I saw him was a night or so ago; I hadn't seen him for several days so it was a relief that he was okay. I went onto the porch again as he slipped down into the bush; I saw him peering out at me as I put down the food, but he never came back out after I went inside, and soon disappeared. I'm disappointed that he doesn't seem to need me anymore. The events of the dream were obviously in reference to these events, though the exact meaning behind them is unclear to me. Perhaps the older woman represents a part of me that doesn't want to let the baby go despite it being for his own good. Not sure. The fear of being bitten and having to get rabies shots is a reflection of when I told my parents about standing outside beside the baby while he ate--they warned me not to pet him, which I was obviously not going to do anyway, since he is a wild animal. Still, I can't help but be tempted. Petting and cuddling the raccoon could have been a kind of wish-fulfillment and an extension of the bond I thought I'd made with him. As of 7/28, my father spotted a dead raccoon at the edge of the road; he says it isn't the baby, but I'm worried.
The baby's chewing actions on my hand are almost exactly like what a young Labrador retriever did to me a couple of years back. The gangly puppy (obviously escaped--I heard it barking from the back of an Animal Control vehicle a while after I went back inside) came into our yard while I was outside with the cat; after I got the cat inside, I tried to distract the dog and get it to go away, but it didn't want to leave. It was friendly, and gnawed on my hand without actually biting me, but it started to get rambunctious and although it didn't break the skin, its chewing was starting to hurt. I at last got inside the house where I discovered red welts all over my hand from its teeth. In the dream, I distinctly felt the mild pain of the raccoon gnawing on my knuckle.
I had in fact Googled "Is chocolate safe for raccoons?" the night before the dream, as we'd thought about tossing out a chocolate item; according to the sites I visited, chocolate can be just as poisonous to raccoons as it is to cats and dogs, so I was glad that I checked that out first. Being unable to find food in the dream could reflect my sadness that I can't keep all the animals around here fed all the time; it breaks my heart when I see animals snooping around a foodless area. The fact that I can't make sure the baby is getting food anymore just strengthens this worry.
The raccoon's action of dawdling in the road and stopping traffic is similar to such actions we've recently witnessed in both a black cat that occasionally comes to our porch (see "Kindles, Caught Mice, & Cat's Eyes"), and in a German shepherd that had apparently escaped and was running around the neighborhood while the owner (?) followed it around in her SUV, driving on the wrong side of the road, not bothering to get out, just yelling at the dog to come back, which as far as I could see it never did. The cat got out of the highway before cars could come along, but the dog slowed down traffic and was honked at at least once. I felt quite angry about the owner endangering others by driving on the wrong side of the road, and especially for being too lazy to even get out of her vehicle and get her dog, which looked friendly enough, but was still a loose and potentially dangerous animal. I don't think the dream woman looked much like this lady, but they could be equated somehow as they both seemed neglectful of animals.
I've seen a fox on our porch just once--the only time I've ever seen a live fox in my life--quite a while back, just a skinny little thing which looked up at me and then quickly slipped away. That could account for the possible fox reference of the dream, but as for the elephant, I haven't a clue, we've certainly never had elephants come to our porch!
