Dream of: 20 October 1986 (3) "Dying Dog"

I had gone to an apartment complex looking for an apartment to rent. I was somehow going to be able to live in the apartment for a while without paying for it. Although in a way I felt rather guilty about that, I was still planning on picking out one of the better apartments in the complex.

Someone in the background was describing to me the difference in apartments and the difference in their quality. One apartment had a fireplace designed to look like a large light-brown plant of some sort. However the apartment wasn't extraordinary. It cost around $550 a month. I was unsure I wanted it.

I walked on into another apartment and encountered a married couple who (although they were only probably in their early 30s) reminded me of my step-grandfather Clarence and my grandmother Mabel. They had mixed up some brownish cement in their apartment and I noticed that their medium-sized dog had gotten into the cement. I didn't think much about it a first, but then later I looked again and noticed that part of the dog appeared to have been eaten away by the cement. When I pointed it out to the couple, they went over to check the dog and found that a large hole had been eaten into its chest. It appeared that the dog was already dead.

The man became very upset and said it was his wife's fault that the dog had gotten into the cement. Apparently, she was supposed to have been watching the dog and had neglected it. And now the dog was obviously either dead or dying. They began arguing about it.

I walked over to the dog and discovered it wasn't dead yet. Indeed it managed to crawl out of the cement and began walking around. It was a rather eerie sight. I felt very sorry for it and I thought it might possibly survive. But then I realized it was obviously in terrible shape and wouldn't live. I thought someone here might get a gun to put the dog out of its misery. Since I wanted to be the first one to get a gun I walked out to a car and got one. I also got a red blanket. I walked back to where the dog was and saw that now the back of its head was completely gone. Its brain had been entirely eaten away although it was somehow still able to function. But it was obviously going to die and needed to be put out of its pain. I positioned the dog against the red blanket. I thought about sticking the gun in it's mouth and vaguely seemed to remember having done such a thing with some animal before although I couldn't remember where. But instead I pointed the gun at the back of its head and pulled the trigger. As I did so I wondered if a mess was going to be spread all over the room.

I also thought that after I had shot the dog I might just pick its dead body up in my arms. I was wearing a white shirt and knew the blood would get all over the shirt. I could then walk toward the people with the bloody dog in my arms. I wanted them to see me like that and I thought I would even ask them to take pictures of me so the event could be recorded.

The gun fired and the dog seemed to just disappear. All that was left was a small bullet hole through the red blanket. I showed the blanket to the man and told him how I had finished off the dog. Everyone seemed relieved.

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