When he left the dog behind, the dog didn’t even turn to watch him walk away. What happened to them?
The man came through the gate. She came in behind him. The leash in the man’s hand was held was in a tight grip but the leash was loose, hanging, tired and limp, old and worn out, lengthened like worn out things tend to get, swinging slightly from heavy hand to slender neck. Their tracks were the only tracks and they looked lonely in the snow. The man’s boots left deep imprints in the snow, the tread giving off dirt with every step, staining the pure white layer. The dog’s paw prints were light, barely making an imprint, walking a little bit behind the man, not following, not with him, as if they weren’t going to the same place. The dog walked steady and deliberate, not following in the man’s tracks at all but leaning somewhat away and apart from the man, blind to the footprints that seemed too hard to follow. The man tied the dog to the railing beside the steps. He looked up at the door and lifted his shoulders. Then he lowered them. He acted like even if he had the strength to go up, he lacked the desire. He looked at the dog. He leaned down to pet it. The dog pulled away, turned her head and looked away through the fence. The man stood upright, squared his shoulders and pulled at the knot. He used both hands to tighten, one more pull for good measure as if to say, “So there.” The dog looked up the steps toward the door. The man looked up the steps once more. He did not look at the dog again. He turned around toward the gate. He took a deep breath. And he walked away. One foot deliberate and in front of the other. He walked through the gate and disappeared.
You’re going to ask me what happened with them. Why didn’t I go after the man? Was he hungry? Was he mean? Was he ill? And what about the dog? What about that dog who didn’t even look at him when he walked away? And what about the door? Why were they looking at the door?
I don’t know any of the answers. It was a dream. Anybody out there interpret dreams? – Darcie
You might try becoming the man and seeing what he what he wants to say. And then becoming the dog. And whatever other parts to need to get a perspective from. STEERING BY STARLIGHT by Martha Beck has a description and examples of how it works.
I’m no expert…just my thoughts.
The dream is so heartwrenching sad and full of loneliness. The leash represents a long relationship between two that has reached a point that obviously wasn’t doing well…both felt alone and both were trying to be separate. The leash is slack, both trying not to intrude or impede the other but it’s still there. However both want to go to the same place (maybe having the same interests)…thru the door and are still connected in the relationship (the leash) even though it is painful. Whatever went wrong probably needs some outside intervention if the relationship can be helped. He tried to show some affection, she was having none of it. Also, he ties the leash…not wanting the relationship to end. Lots of hurt feelings on both sides. I’m thinking if some outside help does not happen then the leash needs to be released so both can be free. No matter what it makes me want to cry as I get the feeling that these two were not always this way.
For myself, when I remember dreams, they are just symbols and represent important things/people in my life. I always look to see how the dream made me feel, that’s the biggest clue and go from there, looking at what is going on in my life and seeing if anything fits. Just my thoughts and I am just guessing. It could be just a dream but could you please quit having such sad ones.
I like Linda’s idea…and I really want to know the why of the dream and how it ends. Even though it’s sad, it is intriguing. Your dream was well written….I bet you could write some good stories-I’d buy the book.
I know this now…the door is the doorway to a new life…a few short steps away. I opened the door and it was full of riches, of growing things, green and wonderful, happiness, joy and love and laughter. It was a short climb for each of them. He didn’t have the desire or couldn’t go in for what reason? The leash is the life tie heavy with pain and distrust? She moved away, too many abuses? Muddy footprints…sin? Abuse? The dog was so very thin. Silver white, I didn’t notice that in the first dream. He tied the leash and went away, he broke the life tie. Why tie the leash? Control? Why not let her go? Or maybe he tied the dog hoping that even she couldn’t go in…did he think she could?
I dreamed it again last night. I’m pretty good about being able to have a dream again if I wish it before I go to sleep. It was morning and it had snowed since I was there last, the man and his muddy footprints forgotten completely. Forgiven? The dog was asleep, curled up in a depression in the snow, warm, silent. Waiting. I walked back up to the door and opened it again, it was more beautiful over there than before. I went back to the dog and untied her. I did not try to pet her or talk to her. I simply let her loose. I pulled her collar off and stood back. She shook. She shook herself hard, her white coat flashing with a diamond like quality, dazzling in the sun breaking off the newly fallen snow. She lifted her head and looked into my eyes and she smiled. She trotted easily up a few steps and then jumped over the last three, sailing through the door and into her future. The last thing I saw of her was a wagging tail, high and proud, her past left behind. Now the interesting thing about all of this is, at first I thought maybe I was the dog, you know how that can go with a person’s perception of things. But apparently, I wasn’t the dog because I’m left standing on this side of the door with my hand still on the knob. In my dream last night, I felt myself begin to smile, a light in my eyes, and my heart was thumping as if a challenge were soon to be met. I took a step forward toward the open door, I felt the fresh, clean, wonderful air of the future place, the excitement of moving on… and I woke up. I’ll try again tonight. I’d love to walk through that door to the other side and maybe I’ll even look up the dog! Was this dream about abused dogs? I’ve been talking about that to a lot of people lately, it could be. Dreams are so much fun!
No dreams last night so I must have figured it out. The dream “He left the dog” was about abused dogs moving on away from abusive owners to a new life. Probably brought on with the talk about the trauma that many rescued dogs go through and jerk, pull and punishment training. Our own Bruno, when I rescued him, did not look at his owner, not even a glance back, when the leash was handed to me. He came to me and knew that’s where his new life was going to be and it was. That was years ago and it still shocks me to think about it today. Bruno lived with that family for 3 years from the time he was four months old. Abuse against him came in the form of negligence. Allllthooouuuughhh….. he was afraid of flies. I wrote about that once here at The Dish. I realized after a few times of him running to hide under the bed when he saw a fly, that it was not the flies, it was the threat of the flyswatter.
Maybe your dream was a look into the future, when you know you have to give Gibbs to his new life. Since you both went thru the door – hope the future holds nothing but good for the both of you!!!
Hi Darcie,
Whenever I have a compelling dream I’m not sure I understand, I use this trick. When I wake up I ask myself to “send me a dream to explain this dream” Then I go right back to sleep. It nearly always works. (unless I have to get up to go to work, of course – but then I just think about the dream before I go to sleep the next night and ask myself to send the explanatory dream)
Darcie,
Dreams are wonderful things, they help us clear our minds and reveal things to us as nothing or anyone can. Dreams are a gift from the Spirit-in-the Sky (Great Spirit). Usually HE is telling us of something that will happen in our life but does not tell us when, for only He knows.
Darcie, may the Great Spirit give you…For every storm, a rainbow, for every tear, a smile, for every care, a promise, and an answer for each prayer.
Wolf-Talker