Channeling Garo Yepremian
I woke up the other morning with just an awful pain in my left foot. I’d been dreaming about - jeez, I don’t know, I rarely ever remember any of my dreams, but in this one I was walking down a sidewalk when several chicken-sized dogs ran at me out of some shrubbery, barking and apparently intent on biting me. They really did look like chickens, though, especially with the feathers. Except for the teeth. And the barking. Enraged, I started kicking at the closest one, but couldn’t make contact despite the fact that my foot appeared to be going right through its..chicken head. But it was barking, I tell you.
But anyway, I stepped forward and just started kicking the bastard as hard as I could. I woke up the second time I nailed the coffee table right on the corner. Damn, that hurt. I was hitting the coffee table instead of Mrs. Perils because I had bolted awake sometime during the night and wandered downstairs to read and crash on the couch. I suppose I was lucky not to have damaged anything on top of the coffee table. I was also lucky not to have been kicking Mrs. Perils. I probably wouldn’t be alive to type this.
Muffled by pillows
Watch out for the Clucking Dogs
In next installment
A flock of attacking chicken dogs?! My dreams are never that interesting.
That was quite an active dream. I have vivid ones, but I never act out. Chicken dogs? I think the Co-op sells those for barbecuing!
Yikes. This may mark an epic moment of transformation!
Hmmm…(rethinking recent invitation for sleepover– better remove glass top from coffee table)
I had a *great* dream last night about when our now 30-year-old younger son was around one, complete with the hand-me-down from older brother red corduroy overalls, and soft brown suede bootie things he learned to walk in. (Awwww) But he was a heavy sucker, even then, and my back hurt from carrying him and when I woke up, sure enough, really sore back from twisted sleeping position.
Now, aren’t you glad I don’t have a blog of my own on which to report all this fascinating stuff?
I’ve had my share of clucking dog dreams though.
Going to google Garo Yepremian now.
you have miles to go until you sleep..
What? No Michael Vick reference?
Well, you know what Freud said about chicken-dogs, Phil…
Hmmm. And I thought my odd dreams about high-speed trains diving toward the earth from mountains in Peru, with pedestrians walking down stairs next to the trains at the same speed, were wierd. Oh, you’re right about the consultants being blamed, incidentally. Back to your dream, though. Carpaccio of chicken-sized dog probably should have played out somewhere in that dream…if it weren’t for the damned table!
waking from sleep is the most dangerous time….it’s when I smashed my face back in April. I wonder if we’ll need restraints as we age….diapers and restraints, yeah, that’s the ticket.