It’s been in the high 50’s at night in my neck of the woods, which means perfect sleeping weather. Wrap up under a sheet and thing blanket and sleep like a baby. It’s one of my favorite parts of Fall.
The other night I was sleeping soundly when I began to have a very vivid dream. I was working in a kennel of some type. This imagery is not so out-of-the-blue as my youngest daughter just began working for a vet/pet boarding business, so I hear her work stories every day. I was playing with 2 white dogs, one small and one larger, when I noticed that the small dog had lain down on a coiled snake. This imagery was, indeed, completely out of the blue. At first glance I thought it was a harmless water snake, but then it raised it’s large, triangular shaped head and I realized that it was a venomous snake - and it appeared quite pissed off to have a little dog lying on it. The little dog growled and barked at the snake. The snake struck, biting the small dog on the back. When the small dog yelped in pain the larger dog ran over to help, but ended up getting bitten as well. Both dogs were still circling the snake, growling and barking, blood seeping down their white fur. I knew I had to subdue the snake before it did more damage to either dog.
Now is a good time to explain to you my relationship with snakes, or lack thereof. I don’t like them. I wouldn’t say that I am phobic, as it does not bother me to watch snakes on TV or behind glass at the zoo. I have even, with only a few heart palpitations, touched several corn snakes and pythons while someone else holds them. In the wild, though, I want absolutely nothing to do with them. Nada, zip, zilch. Species matters not a whit. I usually see 3-4 snakes in the wild in any given year, the vast majority are absolutely harmless garter snakes. Immediately upon spotting one (or a limb that looks like a snake) my heart goes into overdrive and my flight reaction kicks in. Adrenaline pumps through my body in quantities sufficient to render me into a wild, dancing banshee of a man. I’m not proud of that fact, but a fact it is. In that context, let’s return to the dream…
I remember thinking that snakes, when scared and defending themselves, often do not inject venom when they bite. Good thing, as the small dog would have no chance to survive if envenomated. The larger dog, I thought, may survive one envenomation, but surely not more. On the other hand, I thought, the snake may have considered the small dog as prey and, as such, may indeed have injected venom with the initial bite. I think a lot in my dreams.
In any case, I had to get that snake out of there and save the dogs. Please re-read paragraph 3 at this point. “I have to get the snake!” cried the heroic part of my brain. “Aaaaaaaaa, snake!” cried the sensible part. Back and forth my brain fought as I slowly moved ever closer to the life and death battle unfolding before me. I had no plan, as my brain was completely engaged with it’s internal argument. Rational thought was drowned in a sea of adrenaline. The intensity of the dream built to incredible levels.
That’s just about the time my wife decided to change sleep positions, causing her knee pillow to brush lightly against my leg.
I screamed and jumped nearly out of the bed. I would have made it all the way out, but for being wrapped up in the covers. I laid there, eyes wide, heart pounding, adrenaline pumping for what seemed forever. Once I calmed down I still couldn’t go back to sleep. And my lovely wife? She slept innocently through he whole thing. Perhaps she has the ability to link with my dreams, perhaps it was complete coincidence. I’m leaning towards option #1.