Lamb Chop In The Sky

“Dreams feel real while we’re in them. It’s only when we wake up that we realize something was actually strange.”

-Cobb, from Inception

When I was a boy, my family had a small, white poodle who we called Lamb Chop. I would get up each morning and open the kennel door to have her leap out excitedly for play and breakfast. One day she was hurt by another dog. And the next morning she didn’t leap from the kennel, she didn’t eat, she didn’t play. Instead, stiff and cold, she was gone.

I no longer remember my response to this first encounter with death. Perhaps I was perplexed or frightened or just lonely. I may have cried. However, if a boy becomes a man and can still feel the tug of an emotion from across 40 years, one may guess that the experience was profound – and so it was.

But there’s more to it than a distant  memory and a sting in the eyes. For many years after that tragic day, my dog came to me in dreams; recurring dreams of identical set and theme, but slight variation in play. Always my family preparing for sleep and a hallway between our bedrooms with a window in the ceiling that opened into a starry night sky through which we’d watch for movement among the stars. And always a star would start to fall, this being our alarm to rush to bed and sleep if we could, before it was too late. We knew what was coming and sometimes one or two of us would linger at the window to see that falling star draw closer and closer … sometimes close enough to see that it had teeth … that this star was in fact a small, white poodle.

We’d rush to bed. One or more of us might not be quick enough and then just curl-up on the floor, eyes closed tight, pretending to sleep and shaking with fear as the dog traveled through the window and walked among us. If we passed the test, even if one’s deception went undiscovered, a stressful but quiet time would pass and finally our visitor would be gone. If we failed, the price was a vengeful bite.

– –

We humans look for meaning in our dreams, and recurring dreams are particularly compelling. I’ve had much time to consider what this dream might mean and how it may reflect so many anxieties of my youth, including some that seem to have religious provocations. But I’ll not dwell on this here. I simply want to share this dream with you as a work of curious art. Make of it what you will. If it provokes a response in you or if you’ve had your own dreams that you would like to share, please leave a comment.

NOTES:

• The Image – attribution unknown. An approximation of the view through that window in my dream. Oddly, and this is not unusual for dreams, there was no window in the ceiling of the hallway outside my dream.
• DreamLogs at Doves & Serpents – This post is part of an ongoing project to create a rich collection of dreamscapes here at Doves & Serpents. We’d like your help! Leave your dreamlog as a comment, or send it to dreamlog@dovesandserpents.org. Do it anonymously, pseudonymously, or openly … whatever works for you. All dreams that we have permission to share will be tracked by the  dreamlog tag. And here the primary purpose is not to analyze and assign specific interpretation to a dream, rather first we just want to put it out there to be experienced, as with any other art. Each person can do what they want with it: connect, appreciate, contemplate, express a response, etc. We’re putting ourselves out there with these and should expect a respectful, profound and fascinating conversation will arise from each. So step back, walk around, look up close and from every angle . . . for dreams are the art we do while sleeping.
• About – Cipher on a Wall is a weekly column and forum here on Doves & Serpents which explores the realm of mind, memories, and dreams. You can find an introductory post for Cipher on a Wall here and a full archive of posts here. My name is Matt, and I’ll be your host for the duration.