Don’t Shoot the Camel

Don had a dream night before last. Following is my approximation of what he told me about it the next morning.

He and I were eating in a Mexican restaurant. When we were finished we went outside and into what he said looked like an airport terminal, but we were the only ones in it except a guy with a camel.  We suddenly had little toy bows in our hands, but we had real hunting arrows. I said, “I’m going to shoot the camel.” He said, “Make sure you know where the heart is or it’s going to be really pissed.” He told me to ask the owner where the camel’s heart was. I ignored his advice and shot, hitting it in the chest but only wounding it,  and the camel became enraged and charged us. I ran and it chased me around the outside of the restaurant, where he lost sight of us, so he decided to cut through the restaurant. As he went inside he saw that the camel was back outside the building. The camel was searching for him through the front window of the restaurant. [I broke in and asked if the camel had its hooves up against the glass, peering through the window between them. He said “no.” I was disappointed because it was such a great image…]  A man started out the door and Don yelled at him to keep the camel out. The man opened the door and the camel tried to enter, but only managed to get its head in. Don was yelling at him to close the door.

That’s when Myra wakened him because he was shouting out in his sleep. He says he lay in bed and laughed harder than he had in years at the absurdity of the dream. He tried to interpret it and decided it had something to do with my habit of scooting across streets, narrowly dodging traffic while endangering the others who are often left in the middle of the road as traffic roars by on both sides. I said that my interpretation is that I’m Moses leading them to the promised land, but on further reflection I hope that’s not true because I seem to recall that Moses didn’t make it…

Moral, anybody?