How it Works

August 9, 2011

I’ve always had colorful, interesting dreams. Even as a kid I would fly in my dreams. When I got older I started using a flying carpet. It looked like the oriental rugs my grandmother had in her house.

Last fall my dog Reggie died after 12 years with us. I miss him daily. It didn’t occur to me for awhile after he died that in my dreams we could still be together. At first we traveled to some of my favorite cities together… Rome, New York, London. It only occurred to me a couple of weeks ago that I could actually go anywhere in any time since it was all a dream. That’s when it started to really get fun. Now that I travel with Reggie we fly on my bedspread instead of the carpet.  It’s really more of a blanket. A really really soft blanket. Reggie loves that blanket. He rubs his nose and then his neck on it and then rolls over on his back and wiggles around on it. So now we use it to travel.

Reggie doesn’t care where we go. Ever. To him the pleasure is in the trip. And being with me. We always travel at night so that we can snuggle together as we sleep our way to our next adventure. I always choose the destination. I have enjoyed traveling back in time. It’s my favorite kind of adventure. To be in a certain place at a certain time and to see the people that are in all the history books. Reggie and I have watched Michelengelo paint the Sistine Chapel. We just floated right into the room and slowly moved under the ceiling, keeping about 3 feet away. We could see the brush strokes. The heads and hands were enormous. The work was actually much looser than it appears from the floor. It was stellar.

These trips always end abruptly. No flying home. No saying goodbye. I just wake up. I think I need to work on my endings.

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