Last night I dreamed that my husband Brian and I were in Paris, France, driving around in his old "Clean Machine" (a 1974 Ford Van), with our pets in tow. We were at a park letting the pets run around, and we were due to fly home to the States the next day.
In this dream, my 23 lb. cat, The Kitten Hopper, Symbol of Feline Inertia, ran after another cat, and climbed a tall tree to get at it.
Several cats were in the tree, and as each came down, I kept having to check them to make sure they weren't my cat. Then I noticed that they were all fat.
How Brian's van got over to Europe I don't know. I just remember that we were going to fly out the next day, and the van was going to stay there.
Weird, huh?
Yeah, it's just one of several freaky dreams lately. It's always amazing to me how I can go through a spate of dreams that are vivid and strange, and largely unexplainable. Then months will pass and I won't dream like that again.
I wonder if Freud could explain them.
I'm sure he would try.
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