Return of the Paca
Oct. 29th, 2019 05:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stoutfellowMy caffeine-fueled second-sleep dreams (ca. 4:30 - 6:30 AM) are often strange and vivid.
This morning, dream-me was in his house; several other members of the family were there as well, all of them considerably younger than their real-world equivalents. For some reason, there was a doggie door in my front door. At one point, an animal - a small paca or similar rodent - came in through the flap. I picked it up and bundled it back out, with some difficulty. As I turned back, my niece Jennifer (a teenager in my dream) angrily declared, "That was *Beauregard*! I can't believe anyone in San Diego wouldn't recognize *Beauregard*!" I pointed out that I didn't live in San Diego. (Yes: we were in my house; my house was in San Diego; and yet I did not live in San Diego. Such is dream-logic.) A few minutes later, I saw motion near the flap, and stooped to look out. Beauregard was back, and he had several other small animals with him, including two dachshunds. I fell on my rump laughing, and finally managed to choke out an explanation: "He. Has. A. *Posse*!"
That's all I remember. The image of the indignant Beauregard returning, and bringing back-up, still tickles me.
This morning, dream-me was in his house; several other members of the family were there as well, all of them considerably younger than their real-world equivalents. For some reason, there was a doggie door in my front door. At one point, an animal - a small paca or similar rodent - came in through the flap. I picked it up and bundled it back out, with some difficulty. As I turned back, my niece Jennifer (a teenager in my dream) angrily declared, "That was *Beauregard*! I can't believe anyone in San Diego wouldn't recognize *Beauregard*!" I pointed out that I didn't live in San Diego. (Yes: we were in my house; my house was in San Diego; and yet I did not live in San Diego. Such is dream-logic.) A few minutes later, I saw motion near the flap, and stooped to look out. Beauregard was back, and he had several other small animals with him, including two dachshunds. I fell on my rump laughing, and finally managed to choke out an explanation: "He. Has. A. *Posse*!"
That's all I remember. The image of the indignant Beauregard returning, and bringing back-up, still tickles me.
