Two Dreams: Turtles And Tigers

On Friday night, I had a vivid dream about pet turtles. I dreamed that I walked into a pet shop and the man behind the counter turned to me with a smile and a turtle sitting on his head. The turtle seemed quite content. His legs flopped down on either side of the man's ears, like a bean bag doll's would. He looked around absently, complacently; a creature from a Dr. Seuss tale.
"How did you train the turtle to sit on your head like that?" I exclaimed.
"Oh it was quite easy!" the man said.
"I love it! Do you have others who do that?" I asked.
"Indeed!" the man replied. He then proceeded to pull out a variety of turtles from behind his glass counter and try them on my head as though they were hats. Finally we found one that seemed just right. I was thrilled.
"He's perfect," I said. "This is wonderful! I can have my pet with me wherever I go."
The man nodded, holding up a leaf so that the turtle on his head could snack on it. In my dream there was a spot of worry about if my roommates would be okay with me having a pet turtle, so I begged the shop keeper to save that turtle for me while I ran home and spoke with them. Then I woke up.


On Sunday night, last night, I dreamed about a tiger. I dreamed that I and some of my family were living in the house that used to belong to my Grandmother. I was in the backyard: there was the tree I used to climb ever day and there was the screened-in back porch. That back yard, porch, and house was a tiny zoo. There were birds and a boa but the only thing I cared about was the tiger. The tiger was my special friend. I would step into the porch and there he'd be. He'd come up to me and I'd stroke him. He'd nuzzle into me and I'd wrap my arms around him. I always had to be gentle, so that he in turn was gentle with me. But then, as I embraced him, the tiger would lift his paws and embrace me back. He'd hold me tight but never roughly and I could fall apart in the wonder of that wild, strong, wordless, loving grip. We'd go for walks together through the park. I can't describe it well enough, but in my dream there was a bond of loyalty between us that was so fierce. There was this power we each had that we could exert over the other but wouldn't. With a swipe of his paws he could destroy me, and with a word I could have him locked up. But we would never, never do that, and we would always be loyal and close. I think that in my dream, that tiger was my best friend; fierce, loyal, loving, understanding. When my alarm went off I hit snooze, then I hit it again, just so I could slip back into that dream for a few more minutes, where a beautiful, terrible-but-tame tiger was my friend, and would put his paws on my shoulders and nuzzle against me and say a hundred things without a single word.