Saturday, August 20, 2011

Dreaming of Maggies

It's not very often that my dreams include Joey and Maggie, but I had a dream last night, mostly around Maggie. For some reason, I was living back home with my parents, and it wasn't our regular house, but more of a 70's modern ranch house, a bit dark, kind of like The Jungle Room in Elvis' home in Memphis, with deep dark shag carpeting and bulky dark leather couches and furniture.

I walked in the front door after taking Joey and Maggie for a walk and Mom goes "How come you didn't take Maggie with you? She was scratching at the door, so I let her in." And I said, "I did take Maggie with me, she's right over here." And mom goes "No, she's right over here." We looked over, and there were 2 Maggies sniffing each other, exact duplicates, and we couldn't tell them apart. Their personalities were exactly the same, all the spots the same, same crooked tail, same smell, everything.

I sat down to snuggle with them on the couch, holding each one in my arms at the same time and thought how nice it was to have two Maggies. Just perfect.

Mom goes "You know we're going to have to find the other Maggie's owners." I said "I know, but how will we tell them apart?"

The selfish side of me came out, and I thought "I'm going to give back the Maggie that has Cushing's disease, because I want my Maggie to be healthy and live a long time." And I examined them both carefully. But they both had the same hair loss, the same pot belly, the same darkened skin. There was no difference at all. Both Maggies apparently had Cushing's Disease.

We made some calls around the neighborhood, and found the family who was missing their "Maggie." They drove over in their car, and it was a young yuppie couple, bickering as they slammed the doors of their car and walked up the sidewalk. "Where is she," the woman demanded, irritated to be bothered and come and get her dog and yelling and placing the blame on her husband because they were going to be late to some other function.

We opened the door to the house and there were the two identical Maggies standing there. I said that we can't tell them apart to know who's dog belongs to who.

The woman quickly reached down and grabbed one of the Maggie's, saying "This is my dog, let's go"

And the couple walked down the sidewalk with their "Maggie," arguing all the way until the closed car doors muffled their voices.

And then I woke up.

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