Wishful Thinking

I went into my old council house around teatime.

I was pleasantly surprised by the presence of my mum and dad, who I thought to be dead.

Tea was ready and waiting.

Another surprise was my dog Max, who I thought currently to be lying on his rug at death's door.

He came towards me wagging his tail, having eaten the bacon I had cooked for him earlier and drunk some of his water.

Alas I woke up, mum and dad still dead and Max still lying on his rug. Bacon and water untouched.

Max was to die later that day on his final visit to the vet.

Eighteen years old and now at the bottom of my garden. Woof.

Lost Dog

Max, my 17yr old dog, had disappeared. He had trotted off along a rocky beach, trailing his lead. Always the explorer, the beach offered a lot for the connoisseur of doggy type smells. Its rocky edge provided plenty of nooks and crannies for the convenience of tourists. I wandered up and down for hours searching. Calling his name was pointless as he has the peculiar affliction of judging sounds coming 180 degrees from their true source. Hearing his name called sent him running off in the opposite direction. Woke up still dogless.

Pacified slightly by his presence on the floor in the morning.

The Tsunami and Max

Two dreams again last night. The first was set in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean where I saw my mother approach in a long, open fronted shed, which was perched on top of a tsunami type wave. This wave had come all the way from the Arctic. My mum had apparently been living in a shed on the Arctic ice when some of it broke off causing the aforesaid tsunami. Perhaps global warming means I will see my mum again.

In the second dream I was driving home when Max (my 17yr old dog), got really excited when he saw a large mountain peak ahead. He obviously wanted out to climb it. I explained that we would soon be home and we would climb the much smaller hill near my house. When I woke up I thought I might keep my end of the bargain but the rain is just pouring down. Perhaps later.