Dog dreams

 

Not too thrilled about having to catalog this one, but, oh well, here goes. I was dreaming that I was able to perform a certain self-fulfilling act in a way that only dogs can. I guess if I'm honest, I've probably had this type of dream before. They are right up there with flying dreams on the pleasure scale. 

"Well, hello. Where have I been all my life? Why have I never tried this before?" 

But fortunately, or not, I wake up before things get completed. Ok, moving on.

Then I dreamed I was looking after some dogs for Red. I only had to watch them for a couple of hours and he was to pay me $900. I guess I did a fair enough job, though I did lose track of them for a few minutes and found them at a lady's apartment licking a baby's face. He paid me and extra hundred, for keeping the peace with the lady, I guess, making it an even thousand.

Somewhere down the road, I witnessed an act of disgusting cruelty which I will endeavor to describe accurately, though it is particularly gross. A gang of thugs were torturing a dog by fellating it in such a way as to inflate its genitals like a balloon. They filled with air almost to the point of bursting, which apparently was quite a lot, making them almost as big as the entire dog in size. 

I ran to the nearest police station, only to find I had mistaken a low rent bordello for the office. I was redirected by the aging, flip flop wearing madame, to a building across the street. We almost got our shoes mixed up in the exchange, but fortunately I noticed and got it straightened out before getting on my way. 

I don't know if I ever made it to the police station or not, but I flagged down someone and told them I needed to report a crime in progress.

There. I've been as faithful and accurate as possible with this dream journal. Do I get embarrassing honesty points for not scrubbing them of the queasy bits? 

Meanwhile, my LED has been on lately. I've convinced myself that this is Sharon trying to communicate with me. My psychic seemed to agree but couldn't pinpoint what exactly that was. 

She told me that Sharon does appear to her in images at times. The last time she was holding her hands and dancing around with her. Then, when we were discussing the LED, she appeared to be pulling the chain of an old-timey ceiling lamp.

She is always feisty with my friend, giving me the impression that this is not just a case of mistaken identity or a made up story. If she's still around in her own unique essence, then feisty it would be.

Perhaps just knowing that it is her is enough for the time being.

Good morning, Sharon! Nice to see you.