Back to the Dreams
Mar. 25th, 2004 11:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bookofmirrorsHmmmm... it would seem that today might just end up being a feast day in my journal entries. If that's the case, it will make the work thing all worthwhile.
Anway, I apparently haven't posted that other dream, so here goes.
Actually, I don't remember a whole lot about this dream, but the part I do remember seems etched permanently into my mind, and I have to consciously detach myself from it to keep from crying when I "see" it.
I remember being in a house. I know![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
blckwngdorcl was there, as were other friends of ours. It wasn't our house, but we were all staying there for some reason. We had been, or were planning to (or both) stay there for quite a while, 'cause we had all pretty much moved in and taken residence there. All my cats were there.
Something weird was going on at the house. I don't remember the nature of it now. Something to do with finding animals around the house, or food for the animals, or something like that, but there was something a little "off" in each case. (Note: I toldblckwngdorcl about the dream. If he remembers better than I do, perhaps he'll be so kind as to fill in some of the blanks? *hint*)
The part I remember is that we somehow found out there was some guy doing these fucked up experiments on the animals. I remember Smithers and Murke had accidentally gotten outside, and I was looking frantically for them. I think I found them, somehow, but then I found Whimsy.
She was sitting in the basement, her head was shaved, and her ears were gone. Just bumps there, with stitches. She was looking at me, with a mixture of confusion and trust. (OK, crying now...), and was obviously still under the influence of whatever drug(s) had knocked her out for the procedure, 'cause her eyes were a little squinty. It was that look, that still-trusting-me look after what must have been a horrible ordeal, that made me burst into tears.
I woke up at that point, and heldblckwngdorcl for all I was worth, and just SOBBED. I eventually got up and went downstairs to make sure all the cats were OK. I remember part of the reason that I was so upset about the whole thing was that, in real life, we'd just kicked the cats out of the bedroom for one of them peeing on the bed (good thing I insist on having a waterproof mattress cover), and I was thinking that, without them having access to us, I would have no way of knowing if something like that was happening to them, so I was feeling horrible.
That was a horrible dream.
As an interesting side note, one I just thought of....
Whimsy, out of all my cats, seems to be able to project her fear to me. It's only happened twice.
Once, when I was working sales, and driving all over Georgia, I'd spent the day in what happened to be mostly neighborhoods that didn't look like the safest places in the world. I hadn't really felt threatened. That sort of thing tends to mostly not frighten me. Anyway, my last appointment of the day was in this little subdivision. Very nice neighborhood. Not ritzy, but nice. Anyway, I was walking up to this house. The house "felt" empty, there were no cars, no lights, no anything. I figured I had been stood up, but started walking to the house anyway. As I was just getting out of the car to do so, I felt this wave of FEAR wash over me. Hard. For some reason, maybe because I had nothing more to go on that I was in any kind of danger whatsoever, I forced myself to get out of the car and go ring the doorbell. As I suspected, no answer. I was happy it was my last appointment of the day.
Anyway, when I got home (I was living with a friend at the time), I noticed my bed was broken, and all my cats were locked in my bedroom. I asked him about it, and he said that Whimsy had gotten on the counter, and started to eat something he was going to cook, or eat, or something like that, and that when he saw it, all he could think of was "killing her", and he chased her into my bedroom. He must've tripped on something and fallen on the bed, which took him out of the headspace (thank the gods), because he ended up just locking all the cats in the bedroom instead. Piecing it together, it turns out I felt that feeling of sheer terror at the same moment.
The second time it happened was more recent.liljuice sometimes gets a bit too ...eager to use the squirt gun on the cats, and sometimes, even for legitimate reasons, does so with a whole lot more glee and exuberance than I'm really comfortable with. Anyway, once, when he was laughing maniacally and chasing the cats and squirting them for whatever infraction they'd commited at the time, I felt it again. I kinda freaked out on him for it, explaining what had happened, and that I didn't want the cats terrorized. Again, Whimsy was the one being chased at the time (well, one of the ones being chased).
So, in reality, there's a reasonable chance that if Whimsy were really in danger, I'd feel something. But still. Makes me nervous, nonetheless.
Anway, I apparently haven't posted that other dream, so here goes.
Actually, I don't remember a whole lot about this dream, but the part I do remember seems etched permanently into my mind, and I have to consciously detach myself from it to keep from crying when I "see" it.
I remember being in a house. I know
blckwngdorcl was there, as were other friends of ours. It wasn't our house, but we were all staying there for some reason. We had been, or were planning to (or both) stay there for quite a while, 'cause we had all pretty much moved in and taken residence there. All my cats were there. Something weird was going on at the house. I don't remember the nature of it now. Something to do with finding animals around the house, or food for the animals, or something like that, but there was something a little "off" in each case. (Note: I told
blckwngdorcl about the dream. If he remembers better than I do, perhaps he'll be so kind as to fill in some of the blanks? *hint*)The part I remember is that we somehow found out there was some guy doing these fucked up experiments on the animals. I remember Smithers and Murke had accidentally gotten outside, and I was looking frantically for them. I think I found them, somehow, but then I found Whimsy.
She was sitting in the basement, her head was shaved, and her ears were gone. Just bumps there, with stitches. She was looking at me, with a mixture of confusion and trust. (OK, crying now...), and was obviously still under the influence of whatever drug(s) had knocked her out for the procedure, 'cause her eyes were a little squinty. It was that look, that still-trusting-me look after what must have been a horrible ordeal, that made me burst into tears.
I woke up at that point, and held
blckwngdorcl for all I was worth, and just SOBBED. I eventually got up and went downstairs to make sure all the cats were OK. I remember part of the reason that I was so upset about the whole thing was that, in real life, we'd just kicked the cats out of the bedroom for one of them peeing on the bed (good thing I insist on having a waterproof mattress cover), and I was thinking that, without them having access to us, I would have no way of knowing if something like that was happening to them, so I was feeling horrible.That was a horrible dream.
As an interesting side note, one I just thought of....
Whimsy, out of all my cats, seems to be able to project her fear to me. It's only happened twice.
Once, when I was working sales, and driving all over Georgia, I'd spent the day in what happened to be mostly neighborhoods that didn't look like the safest places in the world. I hadn't really felt threatened. That sort of thing tends to mostly not frighten me. Anyway, my last appointment of the day was in this little subdivision. Very nice neighborhood. Not ritzy, but nice. Anyway, I was walking up to this house. The house "felt" empty, there were no cars, no lights, no anything. I figured I had been stood up, but started walking to the house anyway. As I was just getting out of the car to do so, I felt this wave of FEAR wash over me. Hard. For some reason, maybe because I had nothing more to go on that I was in any kind of danger whatsoever, I forced myself to get out of the car and go ring the doorbell. As I suspected, no answer. I was happy it was my last appointment of the day.
Anyway, when I got home (I was living with a friend at the time), I noticed my bed was broken, and all my cats were locked in my bedroom. I asked him about it, and he said that Whimsy had gotten on the counter, and started to eat something he was going to cook, or eat, or something like that, and that when he saw it, all he could think of was "killing her", and he chased her into my bedroom. He must've tripped on something and fallen on the bed, which took him out of the headspace (thank the gods), because he ended up just locking all the cats in the bedroom instead. Piecing it together, it turns out I felt that feeling of sheer terror at the same moment.
The second time it happened was more recent.
liljuice sometimes gets a bit too ...eager to use the squirt gun on the cats, and sometimes, even for legitimate reasons, does so with a whole lot more glee and exuberance than I'm really comfortable with. Anyway, once, when he was laughing maniacally and chasing the cats and squirting them for whatever infraction they'd commited at the time, I felt it again. I kinda freaked out on him for it, explaining what had happened, and that I didn't want the cats terrorized. Again, Whimsy was the one being chased at the time (well, one of the ones being chased).So, in reality, there's a reasonable chance that if Whimsy were really in danger, I'd feel something. But still. Makes me nervous, nonetheless.
