So, anyway, mine's not as dramatic and doesn't involve me spewing saliva on anyone as he slumbered innocently in my arms, but it still made me smile...and if any of you are skilled in the art of dream interpretation, have at it.
***Weird Dream Starts Now***
So I'm at my parents' brick house in Virginia ("Sweet Dominion"), and my new hedgehog tinkles on my paperwork. Oh, dear! I hadn't even given a thought to his potty training! I run outside and set him in the grass. (A little after the fact, perhaps, but it was worth a try...)
Suddenly, the entire field between my parents' porch and the trees my brother planted down by the road is COVERED in hedgehogs. Hedgehogs and their holes are EVERYWHERE!! Finding my pet hedgehog among the teeming masses of hedgehogs is going to be IMPOSSIBLE.
But then, it dawns on me that my hedgehog will know a trick that none of the other hedgehogs will know. I can't remember if I said "Cookie?" or "Brusha' teeth?," but whatever I said, it worked. All the hedgehogs that feared people scampered for their hidey holes when they heard me shout...but one little hedgehog came running toward its home and its mommy.
It was very heartwarming. Too bad I don't know how it ended because May Bee's shrieking woke me up. I guess my subconscious could hear May Bee crying, knew it was somehow potty-related, and wove it into my perfectly average "Brand New Hedgehog" dream.
Everybody has those, right? New hedgehog dreams? Anyone? No one?
Sweet dreams, y'all.
Everybody has those, right? New hedgehog dreams? Anyone? No one?
Sweet dreams, y'all.
4 comments:
The team from Vienna is flying in Tuesday with a portable sleep lab for three--you, Mom and me. My creepy dancing midget said he'd meet us there, and he'd bring your tinkling hedgehog with him.
*snort*
Wear your new ZOO SHOES! And bring your flaming globes of Sigmund!!
Where did you find the picture of the hedgehog "toddler"? I think you've been watching too many of the "Animal Planet" stories! (I, too, have been tuning into those stories. Yesterday, I saw the home movie of a "Thumper" and a "Bambi," who became best friends and bedded down together, kind of like our old dog, Mike, and Bethany's summer playmate kitten, "Little Red Riding Hood." (Russ has a picture of those two, intertwined as they slept--in "spoon" fashion.) Poor old Mike also had to suffer the supreme insult for a bird dog--our "free-range chickens" would roost on him to keep warm at night! God bless his soul!
Sweet dreams,
Mom
Ha! Poor Mike...what a wonderful dog he was.
And the roosting was probably as much for *safety* as it was for warmth...no cunning fox is going to risk waking a Brittany spaniel for the breakfast snoozing on his back.
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