Eating A Little Black Doggie
Robert E. Lewis
Saturday-Sunday, October 01 - 02, 2005
I was in the hallway of a hotel or apartment building, outside an apartment
that apparently belonged to my mother. My sisters were there, at least at
the beginning. At the end of the hallway was a public lounge area with a
kitchenette.
We had a small dog that had also apparently been our late mother's -- larger
than a shi tzu, smaller than a small spaniel, the dog had a long coat of
very thick, very curly black hair, so long you couldn't see its eyes or
legs -- basically a big squarish blob of black curly hair. We were
interrupted by a maintenance crew for the building coming by to change the
number on the door to Mom's apartment -- silver metal numbers, I think
"612" -- to which the crew added a small "A".
My sisters said the dog was mine to deal with, and left, though somebody
(unclear who) was still there. I picked the dog up and then set it down on
the floor; it was very heavy, and I said it would be good to eat.
I took a knife and fork and carved off part of what I think was the dog's
right rear leg. I held the chunk of dark red meat up, prepared to take a
bite, eat it raw, but I was wondering whether or not I should shave the
animal before eating it or try to cut the hair off individual slices. The
other person present objected to my cutting the animal up alive, but I said
that I had anesthetized the animal's leg before I cut, so it didn't feel a
thing (and in fact the animal stood there calmly while I did this). I said
I would never do anything to hurt an animal, and cited my not shaving it
before carving it up as proof -- it would have been traumatic to shave the
dog.
I looked down at the dog and it looked happily up at me, it's black eyes
sparking through the mop of hair. I had some pangs then about eating it
this way, and looking again at the chunk of meat on my fork, I was slightly
repulsed by the idea. But I was hungry and this seemed the proper and
reasonable way to dispose of the dog, and it was now injured by my first cut
anyway, so I intended to continue.
=END OF DREAM=
Notes: A revolting dream. I was with my sisters yesterday, sorting through
lots of Mom's papers and belongings, at least partly responsible for the
dream. Never had a dog remotely similar to the one in the dream (I do have
a long hair black cat, vaguely the right size, but not so big, so black, so
heavy). I did go to bed without much dinner last night, may have been
hungry.
Comments and interpretations welcome.
--
Robert
O'Hush
news:AAU%e.410$PA1....@monger.newsread.com...
> I looked down at the dog and it looked happily up at me, it's black eyes
> sparking through the mop of hair. I had some pangs then about eating it
> this way, and looking again at the chunk of meat on my fork, I was
slightly
> repulsed by the idea. But I was hungry and this seemed the proper and
> reasonable way to dispose of the dog, and it was now injured by my first
cut
> anyway, so I intended to continue.
>
> =END OF DREAM=
>
> Notes: A revolting dream. I was with my sisters yesterday, sorting
through
> lots of Mom's papers and belongings, at least partly responsible for the
> dream. Never had a dog remotely similar to the one in the dream (I do
have
> a long hair black cat, vaguely the right size, but not so big, so black,
so
> heavy). I did go to bed without much dinner last night, may have been
> hungry.
>
> Comments and interpretations welcome.
I have dreams like this. Weird as it sounds, I generally wake up laughing,
already knowing what it's about, and feeling relieved, for instance, that I
did not actually cut up a dog intending to eat it. If this were my dream
I'd think I was probably feeling badly about the idea of spending money or
using resources I'd inherited, or making changes or selling stuff in ways my
mom would have disapproved of. Not that I have any idea what it means to
you, mind you. Sorry about your mom. : (
Dick Silk - The Computer Tutor
news:ZWU%e.77152$SL.19...@twister.southeast.rr.com...
I was thinking something along these lines as well, although "inheritance"
didn't hit me as quickly as did the idea of "memories." Sometimes, when
going through papers, one finds letters, cards, & photos that one
"devours" -- often with mixed emotions.
Silk.
cust_support
meat, if you have not done so already. The health risk is a fact.
Robert E. Lewis
"cust_support" <7tau...@gmail.com> wrote in message
news:1128303548....@g47g2000cwa.googlegroups.com...
> Don't "inherit" your mother's health problems. You must quit eating
> meat, if you have not done so already. The health risk is a fact.
>
Ah. 'Twas smoking that caused the problem that hospitalized and indirectly
led to my mother's death. Aside from smoking, my mother was a bit of a
health fanatic (and second generation health fanatic at that). She has a
bookcase filled with nutrition and healthy-cooking books dating back to the
1960s.
Mom seldom ate red meat -- lots of tuna, salmon and a little bit of chicken
in her pantry, no meat in the freezer. I took her shopping the week before
she went in the hospital the last time, and it was mostly fruits and
vegetables, with a couple of "healthy" frozen meals, a concession only to
having been ill and needing something she could prepare quickly, when she
couldn't stand at the stove for a long period.
--
Robert
cust_support
Robert E. Lewis
"Dick Silk - The Computer Tutor" <dick...@antispam.gov> wrote in message
news:43408...@newspeer2.tds.net...
> "O'Hush" <rumra...@hotmail.com> wrote in message
> news:ZWU%e.77152$SL.19...@twister.southeast.rr.com...
> > "Robert E. Lewis" <rle...@brazosport.cc.tx.us> wrote in message
> > news:AAU%e.410$PA1....@monger.newsread.com...
> >
> >> I looked down at the dog and it looked happily up at me, it's black
eyes
> >> sparking through the mop of hair. I had some pangs then about eating
it
> >> this way, and looking again at the chunk of meat on my fork, I was
> > slightly
> >> repulsed by the idea. But I was hungry and this seemed the proper and
> >> reasonable way to dispose of the dog, and it was now injured by my
first
> > cut
> >> anyway, so I intended to continue.
> >>
> >> =END OF DREAM=
> >>
> >> Notes: A revolting dream. I was with my sisters yesterday, sorting
> > through
> >> lots of Mom's papers and belongings, at least partly responsible for
the
> > I have dreams like this. Weird as it sounds, I generally wake up
> > laughing, already knowing what it's about, and feeling relieved,
> > for instance, that I did not actually cut up a dog intending to eat it.
> > If this were my dream I'd think I was probably feeling badly about
> > the idea of spending money or using resources I'd inherited, or
> > making changes or selling stuff in ways my
> > mom would have disapproved of. Not that I have any idea what it means
to
> > you, mind you. Sorry about your mom. : (
>
> I was thinking something along these lines as well, although "inheritance"
> didn't hit me as quickly as did the idea of "memories." Sometimes, when
> going through papers, one finds letters, cards, & photos that one
> "devours" -- often with mixed emotions.
Interesting. So far I haven't had a lot of chance to go through Mom's
papers -- my siblings have been doing more of that. There were some things
of interest to my mother but not to any of us children that we've disposed
of, and some things I know Mom thought *somebody* would have wanted but
never got around to giving away.
One of my tasks was to write Mom's obituary. She had been so active in so
many things when she was younger that it was impractical to include even all
the big things she was especially proud of. I wonder if having to edit down
the obit amounts to "carving it up painlessly" -- I think she would have
been disappointed some of the highlights weren't included.
On another tack -- I remember that Winston Churchill suffered periodic
depression that he referred to has his "Black Dog." This dog, however,
seemed cheerful and not menacing. Could Mom's little black dog represent
sadness at her passing that can be cheerfully carved away and digested, a
chunk at a time, unpalatable as it might seem?
This is beginning to seem like one of the most interesting dreams I've
remembered in a while!
Thanks to everyone for the input!
--
Robert
Dick Silk - The Computer Tutor
And of course, turkey is always a healthier substitute for beef / red meat.
--
"cust_support" <7tau...@gmail.com> wrote in message
news:1128303548....@g47g2000cwa.googlegroups.com...
Dick Silk - The Computer Tutor
There ya go, cust supt! PROOF that no red meat in the diet results in
certain death. :-) (RL, I'm sure your mom had a sense of humor, eh?)
Dick Silk - The Computer Tutor
> Interesting. So far I haven't had a lot of chance to go through Mom's
> papers -- my siblings have been doing more of that. There were some
> things
> of interest to my mother but not to any of us children that we've disposed
> of, and some things I know Mom thought *somebody* would have wanted but
> never got around to giving away.
One word: "E-BAY"
> One of my tasks was to write Mom's obituary. She had been so active in so
> many things when she was younger that it was impractical to include even
> all
> the big things she was especially proud of. I wonder if having to edit
> down
> the obit amounts to "carving it up painlessly" -- I think she would have
> been disappointed some of the highlights weren't included.
Put up a web page, listing ALL her achievements, either alphabetically or
chronologically (which would make more sense) then put a link to the site in
the newspaper obit.
> On another tack -- I remember that Winston Churchill suffered periodic
> depression that he referred to has his "Black Dog." This dog, however,
> seemed cheerful and not menacing. Could Mom's little black dog represent
> sadness at her passing that can be cheerfully carved away and digested, a
> chunk at a time, unpalatable as it might seem?
As is often the case, it is the dreamer's own interpretation that usually
makes the best sense, and in this case, I'd say your mixed metaphors have
hit the nail right on the head.
Robert E. Lewis
<G> Yes, she did. Sadly, the addiction to food of other types proved too
strong, and when she tried to quit the eating habit cold... um... turkey, it
proved fatal.
--
Robert
Dick Silk - The Computer Tutor
>> There ya go, cust supt! PROOF that no red meat in the diet results in
>> certain death. :-) (RL, I'm sure your mom had a sense of humor, eh?)
>
> <G> Yes, she did. Sadly, the addiction to food of other types proved too
> strong, and when she tried to quit the eating habit cold... um... turkey,
> it
> proved fatal.
one of my dad's first cardiologists told him all the booze he'd been
drinking was probably what helped keep his arteries from completely shutting
down in what would have been a fatal coronary. I think, sometimes, it's our
vices that make Life actually worth living. It's when Life is NOT worth
living that we tend to leave it.
If you get any dream chats with your mom, please feel free to post them.
Note: I've had several chats with my grandparents, but every time I
remember they're dead (and the thought/words just POP OUT in the dream) they
disappear. I think that reminding the dead that they are dead (have crossed
over) tends to upset them (or the dreamer) enough to terminate a simple
dream for a normal person -- the word "dead" itself seems offensive. If, on
the other hand, you can use words in dream chats such as "transitioned" or
"crossed over" it seems a lot less disruptive.
Robert E. Lewis
> "Robert E. Lewis" <rle...@brazosport.cc.tx.us> wrote in message
> news:icF0f.556$PA1....@monger.newsread.com...
> >
> > "Dick Silk - The Computer Tutor" <dick...@antispam.gov> wrote in
message
>
> >> There ya go, cust supt! PROOF that no red meat in the diet results in
> >> certain death. :-) (RL, I'm sure your mom had a sense of humor, eh?)
> >
> > <G> Yes, she did. Sadly, the addiction to food of other types proved
too
> > strong, and when she tried to quit the eating habit cold... um...
turkey,
> > it
> > proved fatal.
>
> one of my dad's first cardiologists told him all the booze he'd been
> drinking was probably what helped keep his arteries from completely
shutting
> down in what would have been a fatal coronary. I think, sometimes, it's
our
> vices that make Life actually worth living. It's when Life is NOT worth
> living that we tend to leave it.
I'd imagine that was the case wirth my father. Vodka as drain cleaner, keep
the pipes a-flowin' -- works for me. <G>
> If you get any dream chats with your mom, please feel free to post them.
> Note: I've had several chats with my grandparents, but every time I
> remember they're dead (and the thought/words just POP OUT in the dream)
they > disappear. I think that reminding the dead that they are dead (have
crossed
> over) tends to upset them (or the dreamer) enough to terminate a simple
> dream for a normal person -- the word "dead" itself seems offensive. If,
on
> the other hand, you can use words in dream chats such as "transitioned" or
> "crossed over" it seems a lot less disruptive.
I certainly will do that. It was my mother who started me keeping a dream
log, something she used to do, and started encouraging when I was a very
young boy and had a recurring nightmare for several years.
My grandmother had a dream "visit" from my grandfather just once, about a
dozen years after he died. He simply stood beside her bed and said it would
be all right, then disappeared. A few days later she went to her hometown
for the funeral of an old friend, ran into her childhood sweetheart (whom my
grandfather had met just once, when my grandparents first married),
rekindled their decades-old romance and married him. (And it was ok -- he
was a wonderful husband , step-father and step-grandfather).
My father always insisted an old friend of his came for a chat in a dream
shortly after dying. The friend told him to contact the man's son and tell
him to look in a particular drawer. Dad felt strongly enough about it that
he called the man's widow a couple of days later; she subsequently found
some keepsake she gave to her son, who had been estranged from his father.
In my dreams I very seldom see clearly people who are close to me -- they're
usually very blurry or indistinct, or are just out of sight, or are just a
felt "presence." It would be very interesting if my mother appeared
distinctly.
--
Robert
Dick Silk - The Computer Tutor
> In my dreams I very seldom see clearly people who are close to me --
> they're
> usually very blurry or indistinct, or are just out of sight, or are just a
> felt "presence." It would be very interesting if my mother appeared
> distinctly.
Interesting observation. There is only ONE woman who means the entire world
to me, and for some reason, I have a GREAT deal of trouble recalling her
features distinctly -- her beauty simply overwhelms me -- even to this day.
About a night or two ago, I was watching a PBS feature (or a local news
feature?) about the Scottish Highland Games (held in Triune, TN, last week.)
At any rate, there was some kind of "past-life" feeling that washed over me,
and I had a CRYSTAL clear mental image of Gina's face at that moment, then
it faded. Again, I can no longer perfectly recall her beauty in my mind.
Robert E. Lewis
I've had that happen, also with someone very important to me -- a face that
has on just a couple of occasions suddenly swung into focus for just a
moment.
I see people clearly in my dreams, if they are generic characters, people I
don't actually know. With loved ones or even casual friends, it's almost
like a television series when they have to write around the absence of a
major character by having them just off stage, just referred to by the
characters who are present, or if they absolutely have to make an
appearance, it's like having a stand-in for an actor you've come to know for
the part, and you just have to suspend disbelief to accept them, hence the
blurry faces.
(It happened again last night, btw -- my mother and a very close friend.
See: "Laundry Stew")
--
Robert