Black Dog Blog

Two dreams…

One in which I was crossing Oxford Road, but the weather was temperate with scattered frictionlessness, so I ended up more or less skating across, still drifting sideways. Surreal and emotionless.

In the other, my home and garden were full of awesome, mostly endangered, wild animals. Um, yes. I watched a few, including a small black tapir-bearcub-wombat-looking thing, chase each other round the garden. Next, I discussed with another human occupant the possibility of the animals' breeding ("you can't be suggesting we separate the red pandas. They're on the brink of extinction!" "Oh, well, if they're on the brink, of course not" – they're actually classified vulnerable, as my naughty avatar well knew, but baby pandas is baby pandas and as such trump strict accuracy).

I wandered into the kitchen, where I decided that the tigers' cages were too small, to be honest, and in addition someone had thought the best way to introduce them was the time-honoured gerbil technique of partitioning one enclosure into two so the new roommates were able to smell each other and grow accustomed. However, I decided this probably would work, and the animals in question were pawing each other like playful kittens, so that was all right.

At one point midway through, I recall thinking "I hate that I can't tell if this is a dream or not." (As you can see, I'm not quite there with the lucid dreaming, but someday!) I also cuddled a pangolin's tummy, but it was not anatomically accurate – more like a tortoise-puppy hybrid with a few lame attempts at scales. I appreciated the effort, though.

My dreams are ridiculously easy to analyse.