Darren in my dreams

Another dream, from a few nights ago.

Late afternoon but not yet dark, I’m returning home from someplace, someone’s home, and I’m transferring all my stuff from their car (at least three people in it, couldn’t say who though) to my own with Pat’s help. We’re in the parking lot in front of the dry cleaners at the corner of my street. Why such a switch would occur there is beyond me, since it’s less than a quarter mile to my house…Anyway, one white plastic shopping bag falls to the ground, in the slushy snow. Its contents are bulky, but soft. I nudge it with my foot, to figure out what it is, when Lil' Darren (aka Moumoune) bolts out of the bag and darts onto Oka Road. It’s been snowing a little, roads are slippery, and cars are braking and stopping at odd angles to avoid the speeding little black dog. I keep thinking he’s going to get hit but cars seem to rolling in slow motion compared to Darren, darting and weaving through traffic. I don’t know whether he’s running from fright, or whether he’s enjoying himself.

I’ve never seen a Pug run so fast; I wonder if he’s that fast in his own dreams.

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