My former dog reproached me in a dream. She was named Katrina, a spayed dachshund with a fat tummy. I had wanted a beagle and my parents told me a dachshund was a beagle with shorter legs. She walked with a wobble and embarrassed me in public. You completely underestimated me, she said in the dream. She was right. I once taught her three tricks in one day—sit, roll over, and play dead—and then lost interest. Why didn’t you say you could talk? I wanted to know. That’s so you, she said. You never asked me, did you?
Photo credit: Calsidyrose
Leave a Reply