Bubba is doing much better now. He was really sick and had to have a shot for pain and a tube up his nose with charcoal to absorb toxins. It was quite a night.
But when I got to the barn this morning to check on him he was singing along with Lyle Lovette.
"If I had a boat I'd go out on the ocean and if I had a pony I'd ride him on my boat."
Just like nothing had ever happened. And I'll tell you what, you ain't seen shit until you've seen a horse with, well, the shits. Good God amighty.
So, since he was feeling poorly I brought him something snazzy to wear. It's a lovely plaid fly-jacket that is all the rage this season in horse fashion. I also bought him a bale of Bermuda Hay which is the saltine cracker of hays.
When I got home last night I had the weirdest dream.
I'm in the waiting room for death. There are people in bleachers everywhere and they are all waiting to find out whose turn it is next. Their child, themselves, etc. There are men dressed in military uniform and they are awaiting their orders to inform family members. We are all facing forward, like an audience, but there is nothing but a wall to look at and a window to the left. There are three beige awnings covering the sidewalks outside.
Everything seems to be devoid of color.
Suddenly President Clinton is speaking before a stadium of Cuban's and President Bush is just standing there unprepared. It seems whatever has happened happened so suddenly that Bush didn't have a speech written so he asked Clinton to speak. The crowd is overjoyed at Clinton who is now dancing. There is a boy to my right who is crying. It's Cory my sons friend who is in an alcoholic coma. He hugs me and he's scared and I hug him back and I can feel the coarse wool from his pendleton in the palm of my right hand. I tell him everything is going to be okay and somehow I know it will be.
Now what the hell does that have to do with sick horses?
5 comments:
Poor Bubba! :(
And you do have some strange dreams. Fortunately you waited till the evening to write about it. I know you must have had breakfast.
For all you readers out there (all three of you), my boss Marc, is the smartest person I know and also the most superstitious which surprises me sometimes because superstitions are illogical, kind of like religion.
He'll re-route if he sees a black cat won't tell a dream before breakfast or it will come true (unless it's a good one), etc.
That's an amazing dream. What's even more amazing is your ability to recall each detail including texture.
I've been dreamless this week, I think because I'm in a new bed and exhaused by the time my head hits the pillow.
I miss you.
I am happy to report that Cory woke up from his coma. My son called me today and told me he woke up about a week ago.
The window on the left is interesting. It would be interesting to know what time Cory woke up from his coma. Maybe you were actually connecting in your minds and your hug and talking to him is what brought him back. I think he was sitting there waiting for the decision of moving on or coming back.
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