It’s rare that I can recall my dreams, even more rare that I understand the seemingly wackier ones. But this morning I woke with a clear image of a tiger in my life – an actual tiger had become my pet.
He was a sweet boy – I named him Gus – and he would fetch things (sticks and rubber balls, not small animals,) and was very affectionate. I was, of course, terrified of Gus because he was a fully grown tiger, no matter how good it felt when he would nuzzle my face, I knew the power of the teeth behind the fur.
Later in my dream I am speaking on the phone with a woman. I was lamenting how I cannot recall who gave me the tiger, but I have to get rid of dear, sweet, Gus. The woman on the line said that she gave me the tiger. Of course she gave me the tiger, I thought, it’s just like her: rare, beautiful, powerful, loving, and capable of ripping my heart out with her bare hands.
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By the by, I didn’t go to the costume party; I didn’t dress as Top Chef, but I did have the most interesting Halloween since third grade when I – the only black guy in a school filled with shiny white people* – went as a Klansman. Recall how awkward I thought it was to have bickering clients at a Valentine’s Dinner? Yeah my Saturday night clients made the V-Day couple look like Ward and June Cleaver. That story will be told later this week.
* Phrase shamelessly lifted from my favorite Mommy Blogger, Lemon Gloria, who probably would bristle at the notion of being called a mommy blogger
i’m still happily guffawing over here about the klansmen outfit. i deeply admire your ability to come up with hilariously offensive (yet witty!) costumes.
At some point, I should tell you the story of my favorite Lit professor’s Halloween costume (Ye Merrye Olde College being filled to the BRIM with shiny white people). I think you might find it entertaining, over a glass of red.
It’s a hard thing, letting tigers go.
I can’t imagine having any clients worse than your Valentine’s Day ones.
A Klansman? I’m thinking you didn’t get best costume, but your parents probably got a call from the school.
Poor Lisa…she DOES bristle at the idea of being called a mommy blogger.
I really don’t think she is just because she has a kid, but I do love the phrase.
imagine the response you’d have if you had gone as a klansman THIS year. always pushing the envelope aren’t you?
In recent years, I think of my dreams in the context of “ignorance is bliss.” I like when I wake in the morning not having a single memory of what transpired throughout the night. Because when I remember my dreams, I’m usually haunted by their images, their subtext, their potential, for days and days.
A tiger named Gus. You could write a kids’ book.