10:10 a.m. - 2008-05-24
stream of conciousness writing and the sea of the subconcious
Beautiful, quiet Saturday morning. Windy. Did some gardening, ran the sprinkler, watched birds. We have one character bird that has taken over our yard. We call him Boss Robin, and he is in fact the only robin we ever see here amidst scads of doves, grackels, and mockingbirds. Boss Robin rules the roost,though, and patrols his territory diligently, giving orders as he sees fit. There will be no ridiculous bird stuff on his watch, which is of course its own brand of ridiculous.
I dreamed last night that my black dog kept biting my hand and that I would slap at his muzzle to reprimand him. His turn to aggression scared me, though, and I knew that he could easily kill me if he wanted to. Still, he guarded me and was always at my side or laying at my feet. He only bit me when my hand was within his reach. Despite his assignment to me, I did not feel protected at all. Meanwhile, I had mistakenly opened the front door, and I watched as my white dog leapt gracefully over a tall fence like a gazelle. And, she was gone.
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