Flooftrarian

Flooftrarian (floofinition) – An animal who will do things counter to expectation.

In use: “Being a flooftrarian came naturally to Cassie. She socialized with other dogs, got along well with cats, had a backyard squirrel for a friend, made a friendship with a fawn, never tried to steal anyone’s food, and was polite and well-behaved with every person she met, including delivery people. Her people always referred to her as the most gentle and sweet creature they’d ever known. Everyone who met her agreed.”

The Movie Dream

I dreamed I was in a movie. Then I realized it was a movie and not life, so I stepped out of it. But then, remembering that I’d seen the movie, I tried recalling how it went. It seemed different, so I stepped back in to follow.

The dream was about a man protecting the Pope. Dressed in a black leather trench coat, with a black hat pulled low over his head, he was in a big white Lincoln Town Car. After some changes in camera perspective and mild action, it emerged that he’d been shot. People were after him and he was after them, trying to be proactive by getting them before they got him. I was very young, maybe thirteen or fourteen, with shaggy brown hair. At one point, I was accused of being the one who’d shot him. I was ready to proclaim my innocence, but the Pope’s bodyguard identified me and said, “He’s one of the good guys.” I was flattered to be cited as a good guy.

Now, though, I felt like I had to live up to that billing. I kept my eye on the Pope’s bodyguard, and spied others trying to sneak up on him. I went to give him warning, but he’d noticed them and was on it. It was at this point in my dream when I thought, wasn’t this a movie? Stepping out, I watched on a big screen as a fine silver thread was spooled out along a winding path through a business area. The silver thread was lit.

A fuse, I realized. But isn’t that different from the movie? That’s not how I remembered it happening.

I stepped back into it. Something was going to explode. I raced forward and scuffed out the silver thread. That ignited all manner of chaos as bad guys — in white clothing, or light clothing, male and female — rushing out to re-light the fuse and the Pope’s bodyguard fighting them off.

Which is where it ended, or was interrupted, by an unnamed cat called Tucker.

The Cat Chant

Sung by three cats as a round

Entertain me

                Cause I’m a cat

Entertain me

                 Not like that

Entertain me

                With a toy

Entertain me

                That was just a ploy

Entertain me

With a song

Entertain me

                That one is wrong

Entertain me

                Let me out

Entertain me

                Just not now

Entertain me

                Scratch my head

Entertain me

                Touch me now and you’ll be dead

Entertain me

                Give me food

Entertain me

                I’m not in the mood

Entertain me

                Because I’m bored

Entertain me

                My life is such a chore

Entertain me

                Cause I’m a cat

Entertain me

                Not like that

The Sheriff Dream

I was asked if I would be Sheriff. People would need to vote me in, of course. I accepted the offer because I didn’t think it would come about. I didn’t campaign so I was surprised to hear that I’d won. I was also surprised to hear me referred to as ‘the short guy with the short hair’.

I was young and happy. Becoming Sheriff was something I took seriously but was also that I wasn’t going to let dominate me. As I was leaving to walk around with a friend, an older man sharply said in passing, “I prefer my sheriff with his gun.”

Oh, yeah, I’d forgotten my gun. Guess I needed to carry that around. As I began walking out with my gun and my friend, the same older acquaintance said, “I prefer my sheriff to wear his gun in his holster properly.”

Oh, silly me, of course. With my friend’s help, I holstered my gun and put on my holster around my waist. He and I walked around. He was going on a journey to the north. I was helping him review what he needed to take with him and offering any help that I could give. Everywhere we went, people commented on the ‘short-haired guy who is our new sheriff’. I thought that was funny.

Rain fell. I had to put on a coat. That demanded I rearrange my gun holster. My friend helped me with that. As soon as we did it, the rain stopped. He and I entered a shop. An argument was going on. As it escalated, someone said, “Sheriff, can you intervene?”

I walked over and told the participants to break it up. They asked, who are you? I replied, “I’m the sheriff.”

They laughed. “You’re not the sheriff.”

“I am,” I answered. “I have a badge, I have the power and authority, and I have a gun.”

That shut them up. They walked away. My friend and I walked outside. I said good-bye to him and shook his hand.

Dream end.

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: