My Crazy Dream

I had a dream in April, the night before Caesar’s accident. I wasn’t going to write about it because, well, it’s out there. I mean really really out there.

When I woke up, I told it to Michael. He laughed a gentle laugh, and said, “You worry too much, baby.”

He says this a lot because it’s true; I worry too much. I’m dizzy, and I think I need to go to the ER. A friend tells me, “Give me a call when you can,” and I think “Oh. My. Gosh. Something’s wrong!”

Hubby is really really good at talking me off the ledge. So of course, I listened. I stopped worrying and ignored that horrible dream I had. I went to work. Taught all day. Went about my routine. And didn’t give my dream another thought.

And then, this happened. [I’d love for you to read about Caesar’s accident if you don’t know the story.]

After midnight, when we were lying in bed and covering our pillows with tears because our beloved little rescue of ten years laid paralyzed in a cold, 3×5 cage sixteen miles from home, I whispered a little something.

I said, “Baby?” (I’ll admit it; my tone was eerie.)

“Yesssss?”

“Do you remember my dream?”

“Which one?” he asked pensively. (Hubby was half asleep when I told him that morning… And to be fair, I tell him about a lot of dreams.)

“You know, the one I told you this morning… about the dog?”

“Oh my God!”

“Yeah!” I said. “That one. I’m sort of freaking out right now.”

He got really really still.

“Me too…”

And then there was silence for a while. We wiped our tears. We held each other. We stared into the darkness. Him, thinking about what I just said. Me, thinking about what I just said. Us, trying to figure out what it meant…

For years, I told my husband I have an intuition that alarms me. There have been far too many times I knew something before it happened or felt something that proved to be true later. I tell him, “That’s why I worry! I get these feelings!” He laughs because Hubby is a pragmatic man who sees the world in boxes and in numbers, and Lord knows I need some boxes and numbers in my life.

But this dream and what happened after it was the kind of dream with the kind of timing that made his boxes and numbers go out the window:

It was about 5:30 a.m. when the alarm went off on my phone that morning, and instead of groggily tapping the snooze button, I awoke with a gasp and little tears in my eyes.

“Michael… Michael… Wake up!” I whispered, pushing his shoulder with enough force to move our bed across the wood floor.

“Huh?… Huh?… What?”

“I had a dream—a nightmare.”

“It’s okay, babe.” He patted my head and rolled over.

“It was crazy,” I insisted.

“Mmmmhmmmm…”

“No! Really! I had a horrible dream that I woke up to one of the dogs laying on the ground. They had a stroke! They were writhing and lost their bladder, and I was totally panicked. I called for you. I screamed. I ran through the house looking for you, and when I found you, you didn’t have a face. It was blacked-out… and—and featureless!”

I had his attention now. (I said he didn’t have a face.)

“That’s crazy,” he said, “Wow.”

“I know. It was horrible. I’m worried. Do you think it’s Grace? I mean, she’s so old… You think?—“

“Come on, babe. You worry too much… It was just a dream….”

He pulled me in under his arm and fell back into a heavy sleep. I stared into the darkness until my alarm went off again. And when it did, I put my feet on the ground and made a promise to myself I’d worry less.

It was just a dream, I told myself.

Michael is right, I thought.

And so my day began: I went to work. I taught all day, and I didn’t give my dream another thought.

But then, just after 6:00 p.m. that very same day, as I read in quiet on my couch, I heard a yelping cry come from the backyard where my husband played with our dogs. Caesar, our sweet boy, had fallen to the ground as he fetched a ball, and he was paralyzed from the hip down.

Within minutes we were in our car, rushing him to the emergency vet.

It was an incredibly long, sad night. Hours were spent waiting. And hours of worrying if we’d have to put Caesar to sleep. The vet said we’d have to “wait and see” until we could find out what type of injury it was. From there, we would have answers about surgery, rehab, and prognosis.

So we went home to wait for his call, defeated.

Just before midnight and after many more tears, the phone call finally came. Michael talked with the vet for a long time on speaker phone. I listened with every ounce of hope I had.

“There is a chance,” the vet said, “that Caesar could walk again.”

We rejoiced.

We asked a lot of questions.

Then he continued: “Your dog suffered a spinal cord stroke…”

Now I only listened again as he said a million other things for a very long time.

But soon, I had a hard time concentrating…

Spinal cord stroke. Spinal cord stroke. Hmmmmm… I thought.

And then it hit me.

Yep, it was that dream. It was coming back to me. That very dream I had that very morning…

…And it was right!

A stroke. Our dog had a stroke! Ohmigosh! This is crazy! How could I have known… in a dream? That’s not possible. Or is it? This is crazy.

In time Michael finished the call, and we climbed into bed. Hubby talked about all the possibilities and everything else the vet said because he loves to analyze. I’ve come to understand that’s how he copes, and it’s come soothe me too.

We rejoiced a little. We cried a little. And then I said it:

“Baby?”

“Yesssss?” he replied.

“Do you remember my dream?”

Now, I know what you might be thinking: A coincidence! Even a broken clock is right twice a day! OR You’re sweet, but you’re crazy! OR I like your fiction.

And friend, you’re free to believe what you’d like. If you’re a boxes and numbers sort or person, I know a few myself. If you’re like me, and you believe in intuition or things that cannot be explained, then this story won’t surprise you. It’s simply yet another confirmation.

Or perhaps you’re on the fence? And that’s okay too.

But for me, I already believed, and now I just believe even more.

But guess what? My sweet hubby believes now, too. He laughs a little less and listens a little more when I tell him about my dreams or start to worry about my funny feelings.

And the fact that Caesar isn’t just walking but running again makes it all that much sweeter.

I thank God I can still dream with that little pup in my life.

So yes, my crazy dream is really really out there. I know!

But isn’t that life, anyway?

P.S. And here’s the kicker… You may be wondering, What about Michael’s darkened and featureless face you saw in your dream? That was weird. Well two days after Caesar’s accident, Michael woke up to paralysis on the left side of his face. I insisted he take off work and see the doctor. He didn’t look like himself, and he was in pain. His features were, well, featureless. Hubby listened, and went to the doctor that very afternoon, and the doctor confirmed it was Bell’s Palsy. Bell’s Palsy behaves a lot like a stroke in the face… Maybe that’s really really out there, too. So I’ll let you decide what to think of it. 🙂

P.P.S. Hubby is all healed and looking like himself again!

Advertisements
Tagged with: