Over the last two years I’ve had some strange animal dreams. One was about a tiger. Another was about wolves. This is my latest weird animal dream.
Three or four people are working across the street. The people look tiny and the trees are redwood-sized monster pines with a canopy that almost blacks out the light. What the people are working on is unknown, but judging by the sounds of their tools it could either be a logging operation or a construction crew clearing brush. The tools they have don’t make noisy sounds; they must have only axes, small handsaws, hammers, chains, and such. The whole scene looks like an artificial/miniature model. The light reminds me of something you might see in a dollhouse or the landscape of a model train set.
All of this is seen from my front door. This entrance of my house is similar to what you might find at a gas station or convenience store. The door has two large plate-glass panes set in a sturdy metal frame. The real front door of my house doesn’t look even vaguely like this.
A scratch comes at the door. A small paw reaches underneath the bottom of the door through one and a half inches of open space. It looks as if this animal has scratched an upside down arch-shaped opening just below the door. I focus my gaze on to the driveway, a mid-sized stretch of gravel. An assemblage of animals—a squirrel, a raccoon, a chipmunk, several feral cats, a coyote, and a fox—stand in the driveway. The animals are about seven feet in front of me. They look familiar yet strange. Their collective stare is really unsettling.
There’s a sentient, lucid quality to this cute fuzzy delegation. It’s as if I could talk to them and they’d understand every word. They have the noble demeanor of ambassadors or politicians, all posed with backs erect and chins held high. They could be here serving a warrant or bringing some bad news, taking census, or soliciting donations for a charitable cause. They don’t have the menacing aura of a posse, but never in reality have I ever seen a multi-species pack like this before. I stare back, shake my head and think to myself, “What? What do you want?” I’m slightly scared of them, but mostly confused.
The mysterious workers, the mysterious synthetic light, the industrial strength door, and the oversized pine trees are all absurd. The United Nations Of Forest Critters has some symbolism. I think these animals are there specifically to talk to me. I see the creatures as representatives of nature asking for help. But how exactly am I supposed to help them? I never find out.