I miss my dog

The other night, I had a dream.  Its was a good dream, probably because I was not all strung out on pain killers.  In this dream, something glorious happened to me.  I had a pet dog.  I know, its not like I was flying around on a golden dragon strafing the land below me with its fiery breath.  It was a more homely awesome, a more comfortable type of stupendous.  As nice as dragons are, sometimes dreaming about a dog and a nice house is more awesome than flying a destructive menace.

I was also growing lavender.

This dog was a great dog.  His name was Ben and he was probably the size of a large pony.  I lived with Ben in a little white house, and we took part in many awesome activities, including reading by the fire and sitting on the porch.  Ben also could often be seen standing in a photogenic pose.

Normally, this would not be something wroth mentioning.  Unfortunately, due to the sheer irrationality of my subconscious, I am taking the loss of my imaginary dog harder than I expected.  that’s right, I miss Ben.  I miss him like the desert misses the rain.  I am literally pining after the dog that I never really owned.

I can’t help it.  Ben was a great dog, he had many fine dog qualities and he was really handsome.  He had an expressive face.  He would sit on my imaginary couch with me, which was tastefully arranged with my other imaginary furniture in my imaginary house.  We watched the discovery channel together.

See how serious this has gotten?  I feel like I lived years of my life out in my dream world doing activities and stuff with Ben.  And now he’s gone.  What if he is sitting next to an empty dog bowl in my subconscious looking around for me with big sad eyes?  Who will water my lavender plants?  I don’t remember anyone existing in this dream world except Ben, so I’m going to go with no one.

I can’t believe I’m lonely for my imaginary dog.  This is ridiculous.