Last night I dreamed of Solomon again.
I usually dream of him about once every few months. And usually it's a memory dream from the years that I had with him. Some happy, some sad.
Last night, he spoke to me in my dream. We were sitting on a couch type lounger on a rolling lawn that led to elaborate gardens. Everything was in full bloom, lush, greens and various colors of flowers.
I sighed as I looked out over the grounds and said: "I'm ready for this whole stupid load of crap to be over already."
Solomon, stretched out on the couch, just flipped his head around and said: "At least Tank isn't as high strung as I am. You'd *really* have problems then."
To which I replied without missing a beat: "No shit."
I did *not* wake up thinking, HOLY CRAP! The dog could talk! or OMG I'm now dreaming of talking animals! or even that my trolley was jumping its tracks.
No. What I thought when I first woke up was, "the boy is too fucking right, good thing Tank isn't as high strung as he was..."