Nice horsie!

Sharon figured into this dream fragment somewhere, even if peripherally, as a voice telling me not to do dumb stuff around horses. In this dream, Matthew, a bay thoroughbred that she owned when we'd first met, had gotten loose, and I had to go fetch him from an excursion he'd taken roaming around in the city. 

Easy-peasy, I thought, just grab a lead rope and a halter and lead him back to the pasture, conveniently located across town. I managed to do just that, and when I got back to the pasture, I rewarded Matthew for his compliance by giving him a big flake of alfalfa. So far so good.

After laying the hay on the ground, however, I decided that it would be fun to watch him eat up close, so I sat down cross legged and put my face down in the feed with his. I could just hear Sharon's voice telling me what a stupid move I had made. 

He snorted and ran right over the top of me, not once, but twice. The first time he more or less leapt over me with only minimal contact, bolting to get out of there, but the second time was measured and deliberate. He stared me down from about a hundred feet away, scuffed his hooves a few times and charged right at me.

I was still seated, so I had no recourse but to duck down into a ball and try to make myself as small as possible. He ran straight at me at full speed, and I crouched in a fetal position cringing and bracing for impact. This was going to hurt, I just knew it. Instead, however, he managed to miss me with all four legs as he passed over me at a gallop. I must've made myself as thin as a blade of grass, because I could feel the wind from his legs on both sides of me as he passed.

Next, I was attempting to go fishing, and I couldn't seem to get to the spot I wanted. I borrowed the keys to my mom's car, an older Nissan Sentra, and laid them on the back of a loveseat which was auspiciously located near the lake. By near the lake, I mean partially submerged in the lake and in eminent danger of becoming an island. I started hearing the lecturing voice of someone in my head, reminding me not to leave things lying around, especially near the lake where they are liable to fall in.

I retrieved the keys from the back of the loveseat and proceeded to hopscotch from the shore to the loveseat, using a floating seat cushion for an intermediary step. It was important that I try not to get the furniture muddy, as I was somehow responsible for its being near the lake in the first place. More lecture material from the inner voice. I gathered up the seat cushion as well, trying to keep it from getting any more dirty while I pondered my next maneuver from the loveseat to the nearest piece of floating furniture.

I didn't figure out a further course of action, though, and I soon woke up. My tooth hurts, and I'm expecting a visit from Denise tomorrow, so naturally, I took 750 milligrams of dried psilocybin before I sat down to jot down this dream fragment. If that logic evades you, fine. I'm still questioning it a bit myself. We'll see if I make today a productive one, or whether it turns into a "nope" day, where I just drink my coffee, smoke weed and watch "Rhubarb," a movie about a cat that takes over the management of a losing baseball team and leads them into the world series.