Kelly In Catty

This blog is Kell's attempt to keep in touch with friends far away who complain that I don't e-mail nearly enough.

Friday, September 02, 2005

Dog Dreams

I like to talk about dreams… Dream research is fascinating. Some consider dreams prophetic, symbolic and deeply revealing. Others find dreams useful in nocturnal problem solving. My friend, Carol believes that we are each and every one of the characters in our dreams. (Once I dreamt I was shot. According to Carol, I was not only the victim, but also the perpetrator AND maybe even the weapon.)

The research that is generally accepted is that we dream 5 or 6 times per night. The earlier dreams deal with straight memories of events. Later dreams tend to be a mish-mash conglomeration of the night’s features. So. If , during the course of a night, I dream about the waiter who delivered my, a bad meeting with a client, an argument I had with my boyfriend, my third grade teacher, and a flight over Port Au Prince, the last show of the night might involve my boyfriend as the pilot on a plane having an argument with my third grade teacher about poor service in Haitian restaurants… or something like that.

I can’t verify this research – I can usually only remember one or maybe two of my dreams. They’re only remembered if I wake up while they’re occurring.

Last week, when my co-worker adopted a dog, I began telling her some of the crazy things I remembered about growing up with my dogs, Sam and Gladys. One involved a dream I must have had. It was so vivid, that in my 5-year-old mind, I swore then it was real.

In waking life, I fell asleep on the couch. I dreamed that Gladys walked up to the couch and, in a scratchy low-pitched voice, she spoke to me. (I have no idea what she said – I’ve since forgotten).

Fast-forward 30 years. Because I told that story, Gladys spoke to me again in a dream (doesn’t this sound heretical and sacreligious?) I dreamed that Sam and Gladys accompanied me to a business meeting. I was happy to have them with me, but I forgot to feed them. On the morning of the second day, Gladys walked up to me and said, “You know, I normally get 8 eggs for breakfast every morning…”

In a lecture about film symbolism, Father Andrew Greeley once said that if an image appears more than twice in a film, it’s a symbol. I wonder if the same thing is true about dreams? And what could a talking dog actually be saying to me?

I don’t know – but I’m kind of grateful for the dream. It was like I got to see my dog again. I think it’s unfair, however, that in my mind, she’s alive – and I didn’t feed her… but I’m not going to read too much into it! And what if – as Carol said, I was not only me in the dream – but the starved dog – AND THE EGG?

You know what? I’m just not going to read too much into this!


  • At 9:11 AM, Blogger Chris said…

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