Two Wolves and a Lincoln Continental

By now it’s probably clear that I’m a fan of the metaphor. It can be annoying, I know, but it’s how I often make sense of things.

Last night I had a dream that I was walking on a snow covered path in the rural area I used to live. Two small grey wolves had picked up my scent and were pacing me. When I turned to them, they lunged. The teeth of one wolf grazed my neck. I reached out for both of them with my hands and they bit onto me. We clamped onto each other and wrestled in the snow. I didn’t want to kill them, but I knew they would kill me if I didn’t. So I bit back. And I killed them.

Wow, how obvious was that?

This is clearly me worrying that my two miniature pinchers are going to walk all over my chest. Heh. Heh.

I can’t write too much right now, but suffice it to say there is much to discuss. Cheryl was overjoyed by the results we got from the pathology report. For me it was like nearly being hit by a car. I’m not quite ready to celebrate because I can still see the taillights. Guess I need to catch my breath. Let my heartbeat return to normal.

I’ll be back soon.