The dream began on a large ship. I was not present, and the ship seemed to be empty. Then another ship with about fifty other ships tied to its body rammed into the big empty ship. Then Geoffrey Chaucer leaped off the ships with ships onto the empty ship. He was soon greeted by Captain Blackbeard. At this point in the dream I knew that I was on the ship with ships, but I could not be seen by me (if that makes any sense). All of a sudden Chaucer was shot down by another pirate (he didn't die, however, because I knew he had yet to write a book). Then an ultimate battle ensued. All the while I remained hidden in one of the ships on the ship with ships.
Then I jumped into another dream. I found myself in a large opera house where a camp sermon was being delivered. I had never been in such a large theater. For some reason I had a bunch of things with me, including my iMac box, several old library books, an umbrella, and a large cardboard box. I only had to move the stuff about thirty feet, but I wanted to only make one trip, so I tried to carry everything at once, to no avail. Finally I gave up and walked to the back pew and noticed that I knew some people there. My father and my uncle were sitting together, and for some reason my uncle, who is generally a quiet person, was being loud and obnoxious, to the annoyance of those sitting around him. I noticed that my grandfather was also there, and he was sitting with Kevin Chupp, my Freshman year college roommate.
After greeting them, I decided that I would leave. The closest exit was all the way by the stage, so I walked the long hike down, past all the ushers, to the exit. For some reason a bunch of my old campers that I had as a counselor at Prairie Camp followed me outside the opera house in a big group, making us look as if we were protesting something. I was even more surprised by what we walked into. Immediately outside the door were numerous sand dunes with a few little ponds here and there.
The campers and I marched through the sand for what seemed like miles. After a while we took a break at one of the small ponds. Then John the Mouth, an old camper of mine, threw a bunch of mud at me, which landed in my hair and slid down my back into my shorts. In anger I ran over to John the Mouth and realized that he had fallen into a bunch of thistles. When he emerged he had a large gash across his neck. Somehow the gash scarred immediately, stopping him from loosing too much blood.
Moments later John's parents were on the scene scolding me for neglecting their son. Then the rest of the campers and I marched into the nearby woods. About twenty feet in I noticed many bright pastel colors spread throughout. As I approached one of the sources of the color, I realized that it was an Easter egg. I plucked it off of the bush and began to unwrap it. I discovered that this was no ordinary Easter egg. In fact, it was a clump of dirt wrapped in a flashy material and speckled with glitter.
I put that egg back from where I had plucked it, assuming that it was to serve some purpose for whoever placed it there. Then I went with the campers down the trail of the woods, which rapidly declined deeper into the woods. After about a quarter of a mile, we encountered a large boat/tent (I wish that I could explain this structure better, but that is the best I can do) with an open door that had a welcoming and warm light spilling from it. I led the kids into the boat/tent and was welcomed by a middle-aged woman. She said we could tour her boat as long as we didn't break anything (she also let me know that she was the source of the Easter eggs).
For some reason I took off running. In fact, I ran clear out of my own view, causing me to have more of a third-person perspective as I looked upon my dream. The inside of the boat/tent looked like the interior of a fancy restaurant/boat. There were several waiters walking around, but there were no customers. As the kids walked to the end of the boat, I realized that I would soon emerge from the opposite door. The door opened, but it was only another waiter, until I slipped back into frame from behind him.
Suddenly I moved into another place. I was in the basement of my house petting my dying dog (who is now actually dead). In the dream I knew that my dog, Sadie, was soon going to die. My little brother was there petting the new dog that my parents bought (which, in real life, was purchased several months after Sadie's death). After a few minutes, my little brother began to move things around in the basement. Then he pulled out some old Fischer-Price toys and began to play with them (my little brother is 17 years old). All the while I continued to pet my dying dog. I did not cry, but I was extremely sad, and I did not want to leave her side, for I knew that it could be the last time I could comfort her. Broken with sadness, I laid my head on her head.
Then I awoke. I was in a strange mood when I got out of bed this morning.
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