There’s no-one who would accuse Rigby of being well-trained. It’s not for want of effort, but in truth his innate high-spirits almost always over-ride his training. There are people who may turn up their nose at that, but I’ve always found it a part of his charm. He presents as he feels, which, more often than not is a happy, enthusiastic and tremendously affectionate dog. Chocolate Labs are notorious for being a bit crazy, but I’ve grown to love that unaffected nature so much that I don’t think I’d like it any other way.
For all his high jinks Rigby is pretty smart. He’s always been very quick to pick up on things, and always very observant. He doesn’t always understand, but he tries. One of the great sights is to watch him tilt and turn his head trying to decipher what I’m telling him, his ears notched with concentration. And thankfully, he was very quick to be toilet trained as a puppy – within a couple of days he knew it was outside for that.
For all his life he’s slept close to me, and often on the bed. We would go to bed together and in the morning wake up together. He never needed to go out in the middle of the night for a pee. We slept undisturbed.
In the last fortnight that’s changed. I reckon for about 10 of the last 14 nights he’s let me know that he needed to go. Around 3am is the magic time. I curse and cuss while he stands at the end of the bed looking at me in the dark. Then I relent, cursing still, and take him out.
I don’t know what it is. Getting old? Doubt it. A change of diet? Maybe.
All of this has had an interesting side-effect on me. I sleep great. Always have. Comes with an innocent mind. I go to sleep, and generally don’t wake until I need to get up. Now my sleep is being broken effectively I have two halves of the night.
I’m dreaming a lot lately for some reason. They’re often interesting dreams, but not always completely pleasant. It seems to me that I often have the more troubling dreams early in the night, and that getting up to let Rigby out acts as a circuit breaker. There have been times the break has come at a good time – when I’m in an unpleasant dream, or when the dream seems stuck in one of those interminable loops.
When I go to sleep again my dreams take on a different nature. Generally innocuous, occasionally they’re actually pleasant. In the last week I’ve had two interesting dreams (for those who don’t reading about other people’s dreams look away now).
The first dream was one of the unpleasant dreams. The details aren’t important in themselves, and are only sketchily recalled now. It’s the thrust of the dream that is notable, and the feeling it left me afterwards.
In this dream my mother has just died (though in an entirely different way to how she died in life). It’s a premature event that causes great sadness. The grief I felt in the dream felt very really, and similar to what I recall feeling when mum she died in fact. I woke from that and I seem to have been left with a message. It seems unrelated to the actual events of the dream, but that’s not surprising. Dreams aren’t necessarily literal, they are representative of the ‘vibe’.
The death of my mother is to me a familiar trope. It hits on a particular nerve. It engenders a particular set of emotions. That’s the vibe. I woke up with those feelings fresh in me. At the same time I felt it was telling me something, and the message was that it’s not all over. Watch out. You might think you’re getting clear, but be wary, and don’t assume it will be right.
No wonder I felt pissed at it.
The other dream I had last night. It was one of those splendidly curious dreams were strange things happen as a matter of course, and every possibility is feasible.
There’s a kind of real estate issue. There’s a woman in a property I need to convince to sell, or else kill her. Naturally. I meet with her. She’s pleasant and reasonable, but doesn’t want to sell, but nor do I wish to murder her.
Scene changes and I’m in a kind of festival. There’s stalls and presentations. I wander around, and then into a bar attached to it all. In the bar is the woman I just met, and two other women I know from somewhere. They greet me warmly, we sit down to have a drink. I’m in a good place. I’m particularly handsome in the dream, and people respond to me accordingly (which is very different to when you’re not handsome, let me tell you). We have a fine old time and I look at one of the other women – a very attractive blonde with character – and wonder why we never got together. She seems to be looking at me the same way. I feel an abundant personality.
I go for a walk. I go outside, past the shop I hoped to buy. The outlook is over the ocean, reminding me of South Head in Sydney. I keep going backwards and forwards, drawn seemingly to the ocean vista. The last time I return to the bar the girls have gone. There’s a feeling of missed opportunity. If only I had hung around. I go outside and there they are, waiting for me. All is good, and the dream ends.
There’s a lot feeding into this dream, little of which I’ll go into now. Suffice to say it’s all about me personally, the intimate me, and how I see myself. All good.