The Fourth Factor

I manage to maintain awareness while falling asleep quite early in the night and find myself in a house. As with most lucid dreams that are on the long side and include a lot of conversation, I can only remember some parts of it clearly, and without clear context.

The house is not a familiar one, although its layout seems slightly reminiscent of Katya’s house. I’m in what would be the front room with two other people—one man and one woman—and three dogs. I can feel a connection with one of the dogs—a medium-sized one, possibly a Border Collie—and I sense that he’s somehow mediating between me and the rest of the dream. I think it’s likely that the other dogs were doing the same for the other people and somehow making it possible for us to be together here.

One of the dogs is briefing us all about something. He’s a very large dog with short hair, probably a Great Dane. He communicates with us for a while—I don’t think he actually spoke, but my memory is fuzzy on how it happened. At one point, he mentions something about a llama farm, then cuts himself off and lays down. I realized this was something he didn’t want me and the other woman to know about, but he had let it slip, and now he’s sad about it. He refuses to say anything else, so I go into an adjoining room so he can talk to the man in private. In the meantime, I strike up a conversation with a bird on the windowsill.

It’s a small bird, a bit like a titmouse but pure white. It seems friendly, and has an odd habit of repeating each phrase after it says it. After a bit, it flies off: it’s decided it wants to catch me some kind of small marine crustacean that it eats—as a kind of gift, I suppose. Aww.

(26.7.18)