When my dog was alive, he wasn’t allowed to go in the rooms with carpeting in our house which at the time meant my parents’ room and my room. If my mom wasn’t around, I sometimes would sneak him into my room, but he usually knew not to come in. He’d do this thing where he’d walk up to the open door and just poke his head in like “Hey guys, whatcha doin in here?” Harry definitely thought he was people and I think he had most of us convinced that he was people.
Last night, H was in my dream. I was somewhere and he poked his head in to see what was going on. Normally when he’s in my dream, the entire dream is about him, like this one time when my street was on fire and I knew he had died in the fire or another one where he was stuck in the basement of my old apartment.
I didn’t think much of it. I ALWAYS have strange dreams and this one wasn’t even that strange. I haven’t dreamt of him in awhile so it was nice seeing him almost. Then, as I was carrying my lunch to the microwave, I happened to glance at the calendar. Tomorrow is H’s birthday. I nearly dropped my soup.
Our brains work in funny ways.
