Sympathy for a kidnapper
Just came home from an exotic pancake feast at my sister's house--Saturday is mother's day for her since she works all day on Sunday slinging brews at leering grizzled faces. When I returned to my darkened shoe box hotel room, I could have sworn I heard something thumping its tail, felt a soft smokey rubbing against my calf--am I this desperate for a pet that I hallucinate the presence of friendly creatures? Even an imposingly large and deadly viper would make an excellent companion.
Two nights ago I dreamt I walked away from a vendor with an indescribably adorable critter without paying: I was walking in a passageway that can only be described as an airport terminal hallway. Along my path was a stand with flowers and creatures in cages making cooing, mewling sing-y sounds. From one of the cages poked a snout which reached out and snuffed in my ear. It loved me, blameless animal!
Ensuring that the vendor was out of sight, I freed the creature of its cage, stuffed it in the inner pocket of my overcoat and stalked off quickly. Imprisoned it in my arms. It squeaked and snuffled happily, moving itself upward so it could nestle itself against my neck. Very rarely have I experienced such a surreal quality of dreamy bliss. There was as much elevating fulfillment in this dream as there was dread and sadness in the dream with the saran wrap & the puppies.
But this dream, too, had an edge. I wasn't the animal's rightful owner--I stole it, kidnapped it and was fraught with fear at the prospect of losing it.
I feel weird about this. Should I?
Two nights ago I dreamt I walked away from a vendor with an indescribably adorable critter without paying: I was walking in a passageway that can only be described as an airport terminal hallway. Along my path was a stand with flowers and creatures in cages making cooing, mewling sing-y sounds. From one of the cages poked a snout which reached out and snuffed in my ear. It loved me, blameless animal!
Ensuring that the vendor was out of sight, I freed the creature of its cage, stuffed it in the inner pocket of my overcoat and stalked off quickly. Imprisoned it in my arms. It squeaked and snuffled happily, moving itself upward so it could nestle itself against my neck. Very rarely have I experienced such a surreal quality of dreamy bliss. There was as much elevating fulfillment in this dream as there was dread and sadness in the dream with the saran wrap & the puppies.
But this dream, too, had an edge. I wasn't the animal's rightful owner--I stole it, kidnapped it and was fraught with fear at the prospect of losing it.
I feel weird about this. Should I?