Pretty vague by now as I've put it off so long, but there wasn't much to it to start off with...
This one concerned Ma and a cockapoo. Apparently she had won a cockapoo at bingo or something. o_O I seemed to be in a different house yet it was still ours; it made me think somewhat of my Grandma B.'s house. I was in some room and somehow I heard of the cockapoo; Ma was in the next room. "You won a cockapoo?" I said, or something.
Ma said "Shhhhhh." She didn't want Dad to know; he would probably throw a fit learning that we had a dog to take care of now.
I sighed and gave her a cross look. "You know what Dad's going to do."
"Shhhhhhh." She smiled like she was letting me in on some secret.
I noticed a cardboard box next to me and pulled it open a bit, putting my hand in. A shaggy nose peeped out and instantly I melted. "Awwwwwww," I said, scratching its head, though I never got a good look at it. My grandma used to have a cockapoo named Fifi and she was so sweet, she'd always roll over to let you rub her tummy. This dog was not black and white like she had been; the fur around its nose seemed to be white and golden brown, but like I said, the nose was all I ever saw, black and wet. I guess this dog was here to stay.
At some point the dog, which like I said I never got a good look at!, was surrounded by baby bunnies, tiny fluffy white ones. I guess they came as part of the gift package! They seemed to be sitting in a cat bed. But then further along it was no longer a cockapoo and bunnies, but a big rat and tiny mice. I think it was a white rat; I know the mice were white, and they looked just like itty-bitty mini rats. They were still in a circular container and I was keeping my eye on them. But then I noticed that a few of the mice seemed sickly. They were VERY thin, their heads perched precariously on scrawny necks. I'm not sure if they were wet or not, but I knew they were ill. "Ma," I called (she was still in another room somewhere; now I seemed to be in the living room, near the footstool), "we're going to have to separate these sick mice from the rest so they don't all catch it."
She agreed this would be a good idea. I reached in and tried to pull out the two or three sickly mice I could see; they kept standing on their hind legs to look around. VERY tiny--only about two to four inches tall when standing, but they looked just like small rats and not babies. Yet they were supposed to be baby mice.
Hm. I have written down "remove, feed." I guess I removed the sick ones and got food for the others. Dad was watching something on TV. It was talking about beavers, some kind of comedy. (NO DIRTY THOUGHTS!) I said, jokingly, "I used to have a beaver." (NO DIRTY THOUGHTS!)
To which Dad replied, not missing a beat, "Then it chewed everything up."
(NO DIRTY THOUGHTS!!)
In one short dream I was on (the site where this was originally posted) late at night, well, in the middle of the night, and another user who'll go unnamed was on as well. They were going around asking a lot of questions, and I was wondering why they were so active so late at night.
Guns ARE Phallic Symbols, After All
In this dream...okay. This one's embarrassing again. It had to do with guns and sex. Long-barreled guns and sex. I won't clarify any further. o_o My brother may have been in the dream somewhere but I can't remember. All I know is somehow I ended up with this big old gun, like a shotgun or a rifle, and I wanted to be by myself with it. GOD how embarrassing! I think I went to clean it off first at the sink, and everybody seemed to be bothering and hindering me. I walked by with it and Ma (?) said, "You can't shoot yourself," or something like that, perhaps "You can't shoot yourself and _____" (fill in something else, I don't know what; it was kind of like "You can't have your cake and eat it too").
I didn't care what she thought, I just wanted to be alone somewhere! Everybody kept bugging me! At one point when I was carrying the gun to my room it seemed to be a big pair of scissors instead, but it was still supposed to be a gun.
And thank God I can't remember any more of that dream...