Can You Speak Pelican?

It is common knowledge that I am an animal lover. And animals generally love me, too.

I often go to someone else's house, or the vet, or an animal shelter and wind up with their pet in my lap, at my feet or on my shoulder, depending on the pet. I mean, I wouldn't want an Old  English Mastiff on my shoulder.

I've heard over and over: "Sweetie never has done that before. They are always afraid/shy of/hateful about strangers. But, boy, they sure like you!"

I've had a snarling guard dog that was flinging itself against a chain link fence turn into a tail wagging puppy when they saw me. I ain't making that up.

Something you may not know is that when I dream of animals they almost always talk to me.

I'll continue when you stop snickering.

Now:

I thought this was a curious thing, and asked a few others if they had dreams like this. The answer was always no.

So, I looked it up. You know the Internet is always right, so I was somewhat comforted by the information I gleaned. I looked at several different sites and they all said basically the same thing.

Dreaming of talking animals shows insight, superior knowledge and wisdom.

How they came to that conclusion, I'll never know.

But that's my story, and I'm stickin' to it.

You Know You're Getting Old When...

You know you're getting old when  your dreams have as many dead people in them as living. I especially dream about my maternal grandmother for some reason.

My in-laws and my daddy, as well as my other grandparents, show up on occasion, too.

In my dreams they are as alive and well as ever, although people's ages are often mixed up. I may still be a young adult, whereas my great-nephew is a toddler, like he is now. Sometimes I'm still very young and my daughter is the age she is now. I must say it's pretty convenient. I like it when everyone is in their prime in my dreams, no one sickly or old. My own physical handicaps are gone, and I am free to walk and run without pain like I was most my life.

I've also noted that as I've gotten older I relate the person I'm talking about to connect them. "I saw old John Doe the other day. You know, his daddy was Ralph Doe who owned the hardware store till Jane Nobody bought it in the 90's. Yeah."  Pause. Listen to best friend. "Really? I didn't know that! When did Jane's boy marry that sorry trash? And twins to boot! Bless her heart."

You get the picture. I don't see my mother when I look in the mirror. But boy I sure do hear her when I open my mouth.

Best Friend and I are eager to discuss our ailments with one another, too. We relish going into great detail, and both of us have plenty to talk about. We have physical troubles you wouldn't believe, even if I told you.  

But I'll be happy to tell you anyway.

We gripe about fashion trends and how they aren't fit for humans to even wear. How ugly new hairdos are. How gross music is. How hard technology is to  understand. The usual fair of a geezer's conversation, I guess.

Due to a stroke during surgery a few years ago, I wear hearing aids. And I've glasses since I was thirteen. Nevertheless, this makes me appear much older if I talk about them.

At least I don't have false teeth.

Yet.

When I'm around the younger set, I try to be current and not talk about "when I was  your age", although occasionally I do say that, because darn it, when I was their age things were so interesting and important.

And, as  you know, if you are over forty, young people aren't as smart as they used to be. We need to tell them stuff. Right? 

And the day I've  dreaded all my life has arrived. I've always enjoyed staying up late and sleeping late. My staying up late was squashed when I got hurt and so was sleeping late, to an extent.

But I am now finding myself awakening early, not because of pain or discomfort but because of the only other reason I can think of. My age.

Husband is starting to look old. Of course I don't. (ha)

Every month or two I see a sag that wasn't there. And although I weigh the same, it ain't where it  used to be.

Ah, well. They say old age ain't for sissies. So I better buck up and forge ahead.

Have I ever told you about how I got that terrible scar on my right elbow?

Hello? Hello? Anybody out there....

Such Stuff as Dreams are Made of

Last night I dreamed that Hop Sing resigned as cook for the Cartwright family.

I know a lot of you don't have a clue as to who these people are, but those of you who do, are asking themselves right now: "Why the heck do I keep reading this stuff!"

Wait, it gets better.

I dreamed my mother decided to get a facebook page and somehow accidentally erased mine (you thought I was gonna say read my blogs! HA!) I was upset over losing all my pictures.

Night before last, I dreamed we were adopting a baby girl. It was kind of sudden and my brother and his wife were helping us round up baby furniture and stuff. I went to work (with the baby) and told my boss I was going to have to be off for a while.

The baby was having to sleep between Husband and me.

And the baby never made a sound or caused any disturbance.

This is how I knew it was a dream.

My brother has recently had surgery. My cat has recently had surgery. The cat immediately came home and started ripping out her stitches. We had to get a collar, or more commonly known as "the cone of shame" to fasten around her neck so she couldn't get to the stitches.

Somehow in  my dream life I got this mixed up, and  my very macho mechanic brother was in a collar, but it looked more like those frilly Elizabethan collars that Queen Elizabeth wore.

I have given strict instructions to Husband and Daughter that if Brother, or anyone resembling Brother, pulls up to my house to secure the house locks, and run.  He says he doesn't read my blog, but his wife does, and out loud much of the time apparently, as he knows contents of blogs he 'doesn't' read.

Some years ago I dreamed I was standing in line waiting to purchase tickets. Don Knotts was standing behind me, and he kept grabbing my - er - posterior. I was getting more and more irritated by the minute.

Finally I turned to Mr. Knotts and said, "If you do that one more time, I'm telling my husband, and he's no Barney Fife!"

So, there.

Some people say they can't remember anything they dream. Some people say they dream in black and white. Cats dream, dogs dream, maybe all animals dream.

I have a  very vivid, technicolor dream life. My children's book, "The Crow and The Wind" was written based on a dream.  The novel, "Out on a Limb of the Family Tree" has three or four scenes straight from my dream life.

Being a therapist in my former life, I can easily analyze some dreams. For instance when our center was in turmoil and I was having more and more responsibilities given me (read: dumped on me), I dreamed one night that there were all these crises happening, a woman was in labor, secretaries were fighting, a doctor was cracking up, and then our clinical psychologist runs in and tells me there's a man in the parking lot I need to save. I look out the window, and there's this scrawny crazy man dressed up in a Superman costume on the top of a transfer truck threatening to jump.

Interpretation: I couldn't get my job done because there were too many "fires" to put out, everyone depended on  me to help them, and I was expected to even step out of my job duties and save those beyond my reach (and maybe who should have been saving me, as in "Help! Superman!").

I have had a few that I believe were straight from God, not really dreams, in fact distinctly different, more giving direction or information.

I have waked myself up, laughing out loud, sobbing out loud, yelling out loud, all because of dream content.

Dreams are really neat, huh.

Dreams, Reality, and a Threat from My Husband

This morning, I was having the coolest dream.

I was at a zoo, and a lady that worked there had a cheetah on a leash walking around, warning people about the cat, "Don't touch her, she doesn't like to be touched."

She and the cat walked by me, and the cat came to me and stared up at me (I was sitting down). Then the cat put her paws in my lap, placed her head up against mine and licked my cheek. She looked at me adoringly. The lady said, "That would only happen in one in a thousand people."

She let me have the leash, and the cat and I were having a grand old time. The lady asked me to stay, but I told her I was having a terrible cramp in my arm and hand and had to leave.

This woke me up, and my whole arm and hand was numb from laying on it. The pain was incredible.

Then I remembered it was supposed to rain/sleet/hail/snow/freeze today and I nudged my husband and told him he needed to get up and go out and crank the generator to make sure it would work if our electricity went off.

He whined, "I've been sick, it's cold, don't make me go out there, it'll crank."

I said, "Okay, I hope you're right." And had foreboding thoughts about how that was gonna turn out.

Anyway, I told him my dream, which I think is fascinating, don't you? and he sorta mumbled, "Knowing you, that will probably happen."

Then I told him my whole arm and hand was numb, and looking at it, I wondered if the whole thing had been a UFO abduction, because the creases all over my arm and hand looked like crop circles.

He told me, quite calmly, that he had not had his coffee, and if I didn't stop chattering and giggling (I do NOT giggle) that he was going to muzzle me.

But just for a little while.