Male cat has kittens
I’m sitting on a patio that feels much like an outdoor living room. It is roomy, has lots of comfortable furniture, but it is outside.
I’m lounging in a chair, with a blanket over my legs. It is a little cold and begins to sprinkle. Ziggy, my middle cat walks up, trailed by four kittens. I encourage them to come under the covers so they won’t get wet, so they’ll be warm. Ziggy is obviously the mother, though whether he’s a surrogate because he’s the most caring of my brood or because he actually had kittens through a freak of nature, I don’t know.
So I coax all the cats under the blanket, but the kittens are squirming. They don’t like being confined. I’m trying to dry them off, but they don’t appreciate the attention. They’re all about three months old. One is a Siamese, another is black and two are black and yellow like bees. I wonder how they can all be so different, but kittens are sometimes like that. More likely, Ziggy has just found them and decided to take care of them.
I’m driving around the state, it’s warm, and I end up in a little small town where I decide to stay, perhaps for good. I begin learning about the people who live there, including a very famous jeweler. His pieces were not inexpensive during his lifetime, but he has just died, and now the prices are going up. I see a beautiful silver barrette that I know I must have, with fragile detailing, but it is $360. I hope to bargain it down, and I think I must have known this jeweler a while ago. As I touch it, something breaks, and I furtively put it down and search for another just like it. But I can’t find anything else that I want. And it’s still debatable whether I can afford it.
There also seems to be a big catastrophe in town, with lots of fire trucks and sirens. I’m hiding in a fire station now with other people, waiting for the crisis to be over. I wish I could remember more of this part of the dream, because it seems like it was the most interesting and exciting part.
In another part, I dream about people I used to know. One part is funny. A former coworker is dressing the same as his friend to appear like twins, though he’s a little taller than his would-be twin. They’re trying to get a part in a commercial.
One part is sad, a former friend I no longer talk to, calling because she was working on some project for graduate school. I don’t talk to this person any more because we have nothing in common, and she always tried to play one-up with me. She was always doing something better than me, even if she wasn’t. So in the dream, she’s working on some project that involves introspection and therapy and she wants to tell me that she thinks she was sexually abused by her mother when she was a child. I’m shocked, and I’m trying to comfort her, although a part of me guiltily is still bored by her, and talking to her. I try to be supportive and ask her when she remembered this, when this happened. She apparently only just remembered it, but that it went back to a long time ago, when she was 10 year old. Perhaps when we first started being friends, or a little older.
In the background, I have the fake twins goofing off and making noise and I tell them to be quiet, because this is serious.
At another point, I go to a large bar and restaurant. I’m standing on a balcony, looking below at the people enjoying their drinks. I don’t want a drink, but I am amused by an elaborate display of cases of pop stacked on top of each other at the end of the balcony, almost like a wall. I feel isolated though, as if I don’t have any friends. I’m not interacting with anybody.
There’s a group of people sitting at a table nearby but they are not watching me. I try to squelch the temptation to mess with the display, but am unsuccessful. I play with one of the cases, which of course sends the rest of the display tumbling down. Now I’m very embarrassed and look around to see if anybody had seen me as I try unsuccessfully to put it back together. The table people are still not looking, but nearby a guy who appears to work there sidles up. I apologize but he says not to worry about it and starts putting it back together. Next time you want something, he says, just ask me though, OK? I agree, and notice that there are videotapes recorded from TV in the pile. I also give the man $5 because I messed up his display.
Your dreams amaze me. I simply do not have this level of detailed dreams any longer. I’m lucky if I remember even one un-detailed dream in a month. I’m envious! I want dreams like this!
You know, I often feel like my dreams are too fragmented, and sometimes way too ordinary for my taste. I always read Dawn’s or Shel’s with interest, because I think their dreams are so vibrant and detailed.