Ben Ben Singh

(Saturday, April 23, 2016) moon: waning gibbous Scorpio / tarot: queen of pentacles

Shakespeare’s birth-death day / Google quote:  “We are such stuff as dreams are made on.”

I have a long dream that fades into a more memorable one. The faded dream is about work, tedium. I stand in a dark warehouse space on a concrete floor, talking to a coworker or my boss. The conversation is not very engaging and I become aware of a tiny dog lying behind me in the middle of the room. He is unnaturally small, weighing maybe only a pound, with short black and brown fur. His huge, sensitive brown eyes are full of pain. I think he is dying. As he weakens he seems to almost melt into the floor.

I am horrified and want to find a way to heal or help this pup. My tall, blond cousin Pat Murphy walks swiftly into the room, on some kind of mission. His attention is distracted, he is a bit terse with me, but says not to worry about the dog. He knows the name of the dog and the family to which he belongs. He repeats the names of the canine and the humans several times but I can’t hang on to the information. My brain feels foggy, probably because of the emotion I am experiencing. I call the dog Ben Ben Singh, which is close to his real name, but not precisely so.

My cousin Pat waves his arms widely, motioning for me to follow him. We travel through halls that resemble my old high school. We are both moving very rapidly. My soles barely touch the stone floor, I am so light on my feet. But people sharing the corridors with us cannot perceive the quickness of my travel.

After several right-hand turns we enter a dimly-lit room with metal lockers. A dog pound. Pat shows me Ben Ben Singh’s locker. The name of his East Indian family is posted on the door. Inside the locker is a big bowl of fresh blueberry yogurt that the family has left for Ben. Apparently Ben likes to take off on long journeys away from home, and always ends up at this particular pound. Safe, sound, hungry!

Day notes:

What on earth is this about? Such a silly dream.

Dog pound, dog that weighs a pound. Dog that eats blueberries! He must not be Hindu, since he is eating yogurt. I suppose the yogurt could be made from goat’s milk.

Maybe “my cousin Pat” is Pat from our dream group, (impatiently) showing me the way in this dream?