The Tiger Dream

It was another chaotic and hectic dream. 

I was camping with friends at a big music festival. The place was packed, reminding me of images from Woodstock back in 1969, but with better weather. Everyone was having a good time. As part of a group of ten to twelve people, we all had roles for setting up and sustaining our party. I was responsible for a cooler of beverages and ice, along with a sound system. I brought them, set up, and we had a good time. As night fell, I found a sleeping bag and crashed out.

The next morning, the celebration was cranking up early. I looked for the cooler and sound system. Neither were found. I told the others, “I asked you guys to look after it.” Laughing, they shrugged that off.

Okay, I had to find them. As I started out, I said, “I have two things to do.” As I said that, I realized that there was more to do, so I said, “No, I have four things to do.” Then I ticked them off my fingers. Unfortunately, I only remember looking for the cooler and bringing it back, and doing the same with the sound system.

I set off through the packed grounds. Sometimes I’d tell people what I was looking for, but mostly, I just wandered and looked.

As I did, I saw a young tiger running toward me. I’d heard rumors while I was rambling around that they had young, wild animals like cougars at the festival. As I saw the animal, I heard a young woman say, “Oh, look, a baby tiger.” I thought the tiger was young but not a baby.

A woman said, “It’s not supposed to be out.”

The tiger ran toward me. I prepared to catch it, but it veered at the last moment and leaped up a tall stack of shelves filled with cans, containers of ketchup, bags of flour, and jars of pickles. The tiger’s jump amazed me, but the tiger didn’t stick the landing. As I began reacting, it fell off the top shelve, which was over a dozen feet high, and landed on the ground. The woman came forward and scooped it up.

“Did you see that tiger jump?” I said, pointing at the shelves. “That tiger jumped to the top of those shelves. It was amazing.”

Although I said this several times, nobody else seemed to have noticed, and nobody answered me.

The dream ended.

The Real Story

I came up to the coffee shop counter to order. The barista’s eyes widened as her glance flicked over my face. Poise returned to her. “Do you know that your eye is very red-looking around it, like it’s bleeding?”

“Yes. My wife hit me.”

Her eyes widened.

I smiled. “I said something to her. I guess she didn’t like it, because she reached back and punched me. I reacted, but she caught some of my eye.”

“What’d you said?”

“I don’t remember.”

As the barista continued looking at me in shock, I smiled. “No, I made all that up. What really happened is that I got out of bed and peed. As I came back to bed at five twenty-five, I wondered where my cat, Tucker, was. I didn’t see him on the bed. He usually likes to sleep with us. I got into bed, and shifted my head and blanket to get more comfortable. As I did, I raised my head and looked over it, toward the headboard, and saw Tucker swing a paw at me. I guess he’d been asleep. I hadn’t noticed him, and startled him awake.

“Seeing the paw coming, I jerked back, but I wasn’t fast enough, and I was in the wrong position. One of his claws caught my eyelid and hung. Pitching forward, I freed myself, but not without some pain. I ended up with a scratch, about a sixteenth of an inch deep and three sixteenths long, on my eyelid. Luckily, he didn’t catch my eyeball or the cornea or anything.”

“Did you go to the hospital or get it taken care of?”

“No.” I smiled. “I cleaned it up and applied antiseptics with cotton balls. I believe I’ll live.”

“What’d you do to the cat?”

“Nothing. It was an accident, I think. He just freaked out. Although I have to say, when I fed him this morning, I told him that I was pissed at him and he needed to keep his distance for a while.”


Floofjury (floofinition) – a wound or wounds inflicted by a housepet; one or more judgemental housepet(s).

In use: “He rolled over. Arising from its sleep, his cat reared back and swatted across his face, leaving him with a bleeding floofjury.”


Friday’s Theme Music

“‘Cause I’d rather feel pain than nothing at all.”

It’s an old cliché. I think I’ve seen it in movies multiple times.

I was thinking all that yesterday when a character said that. Another character said, “Cliché,” and the third character said, “Three Days Grace, “Pain”, 2007.”

I gave the character help, looking the date up for him. He’s supposed to know these things, but he came up short (cliché!). I always think Three Days Grace could be a rock group from the previous century. Well, honestly, that’s when they started, so, it fits.

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