No One Can Lay A Hand On Our Dreams

Had another dream the other night, needed to get this one down.

Dreamt I was in a house that was not my own, but was one that felt familar, a little like my house from childhood in St. Joseph. There was a giant set of glass sliding doors and I was sitting on the tile floor next to them. Outside was non-descript flora, quite out of focus, and a small chihuahua staring intently at me from the other side of the glass.

My grandmother was on the floor a few feet away from me, lying on nothing but a towel, with a few other people around her, but they were not important and I do not remember them [they didn't even speak].

I knew my grandmother was exceedingly ill and she looked like death, hollowed cheeks, sunken eyes, etc. I was scared for her. This dog was no normal dog and I began to understand that it was coming for my grandmother.

I knew that this scrawny dog was the Angel of Death and I had to keep it away. Everytime I turned to look at my grandmother, my panic rising, the dog would suddenly be through the glass without a sound. The creepiest thing was that it wasn't moving at all -- no breath, no blinking, no tail-wagging. It just stared at my eyes in a defensive position, like I had some power over it.

As the dog would attempt to "shift" closer, I would pick it up, open the door and try to hurl it out into the green blur of a backyard to keep it away from her. I could hear my grandmother gasping as I picked up the pooch and I knew just from it being inside it was killing her.

The dog moved and latched onto my hand, manuevering its little paws around my wrist and palm and growling while I waved my arm in every direction.

I would eventually throw it and it would land in some far off spot. Worried about grandma on the floor, I would go wipe her brow or give some other doctorly affection for about two seconds and the dog would be back at the door in pop, no sound, no movement -- just there.

This was repeated throughout the dream with just my anxiety increasing. By the end of the dream, I thought I was going to have a heart-attack.

The really strange thing was that I didn't really have any kind of attachment to my grandmother. It's like ... it was her, but there wasn't anything that I loved about her. She was just an object I was trying to protect for some reason. I didn't really feel like I knew her in the slightest. It just wasn't her time to die in my eyes and I tried through the whole night to keep her alive.

In here time, to the best of my knowledge, she's still alive and well, albeit a little lonelier. My grandfather dying has started taking it's toll on her.

I'm sad.

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