I really don't want to post this, but since I've started on the dream catalog it seems dumb to stop now, especially since they're so goddam vivid. I'm in a weird mood now, and I don't want to play.
Yet another visit to the compound in the woods where my parents and grandparents live. (My dreams are always coming back to my grandmother's house and I'm not sure why. It's an all-the-time thing, once I even dreamed I witnessed a nuclear incident from up on the hill near the end of their driveway. It's a common setting, as are the woods around the house. They live in a hundred-year-old Christmas tree farm, I guess. It's full of douglas fir. It almost always looks more fantastic and brooding and awesome in my dreams than it is irl. It looks more real and more fake at the same time.) I'm in the kitchen and I hear a noise from the living room. I go look.
There's a recliner set by the patio doors, and in it is a lump of carpet scraps stapled to jello. I get closer and I see that it seems to have some kind of form, and looks matted. It has a wrinkled portion at one end and when I get close, it opens its wrinkled mouth and eyes and sniffs me. It's a dog. A very, very old dog. And it belongs to my great-grandmother (who lives with my grandparents, for real).
It can tell I am female and of bearing age, and before I realize what the hell is going on it's nipped open the front of my shirt with its teeth. It is upset that I'm wearing a tank top underneath, and rouses itself to pounce on me and hump my (leg? please say leg, I don't know)-- but then I swat this stupid old muppet-dog and tell it NO. It growls, annoyed, but it leaves me alone.
Some other stuff happened, but I can't really remember so well. I just know I narrowly avoided being raped by a muppet, and it's got me a little creeped.