It’s not often that I’ll dream about Greta, our dachshund. Greta usually doesn’t factor into my dreams. I’ve had more dreams about fire drills in school than about Greta, if that tells you anything. I’ve also had more dreams about protests than about Greta.
But I did have a dream about Greta on Saturday night. In this dream, we had two dogs – Greta, and another, larger dog. In the dream, the dog looked like a Labrador Retriever, which is a bit bigger than Greta, a dachshund. Greta is twelve years old, and this unnamed new dog was definitely a lot younger than Greta. And despite the other dog’s larger stature, guess who was pushing who around. That’s right, Greta was showing the other dog who was boss.
I was like, go, Greta! in seeing this in the dream, because when we go on walks, Greta’s definitely the one getting her butt sniffed when we encounter other people’s dogs. So it was nice to see Greta basically taking charge, even if it was only a dream. In real life, Greta’s like those people who talk big and have nothing to back it up. The neighbors’ dogs know when Greta’s outside, because she always has a few words for them. And based on what I’ve heard Greta saying to those other dogs, I’d say that her mother would be embarrassed. Greta barks like a sailor, you see. But she’s got that fence to keep the other dogs out, so Greta can say whatever she wants and who’s going to stop her? Well, Mom, maybe.
Speaking of such things, I still remember when I dislocated my shoulder back in 1999, and Dad told me about what Greta did. We put Greta in Mom and Dad’s room so she would be out of the way when the rescue squad scraped me off the bed. Greta barked her little head off. However, she was not barking at the door. Oh, no. She was standing on the bed (in the center of the room), barking from there. It’s like, “Yeah, I know you’re here, but dammit, I’m going to bark at you in comfort.”
Then I remember the time when Greta killed a mouse. For some reason, in the mid-1990s, we got a few mice in the house. For one of them, Greta took matters into her own hands. Greta saw it, and immediately went into action. She ran over to the mouse, cornered it, and attacked it. The mouse died quickly. No suffering. Greta put it out of its misery in no time flat. Greta got major kudos for taking care of the mouse for us – we didn’t have to actually catch it, after all, though admittedly we would have just put it outside rather than actually killing it.
Then there’s the time, I believe in 2005, when Greta bit Sis’s boyfriend Chris. Now I find that funny for some reason, though I’m sure Greta and Chris didn’t find it so funny, especially not at the time.
Still, I found the dream somewhat amusing.