dream turned tragic
4 Feb 2003 08:16![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
veekI was doing some sort of big-production show, with my choir. It seems to have been more musical theatre than separate numbers; it truly was a Big Production. There were pirates, arr! And this big... thing, like the wheelie deal for a canon except more elaborate and without the canon and about five times bigger. There was a dog! In the show! It was great. He looked like a mutt, but was said to be the king of dogs. (No, really. He was the Aragorn of dogs.)
We were performing. At one point, I (among some others) was done performing, and we went to the other side of the (huge, open) stage to watch more of the action. Hm, perhaps it wasn't a stage but a stadium-like place. There was a lot of space, it was a large spectacle.
They wheeled in the big canon-rack thing. It went in amongst the crowd, large square metal rods sticking out like rays of a star, and settled down. I never did figure out what exactly its function was. The next thing I remember is the dog, limping away as quickly as he could, the entire hind half of his body completely flat.
There was no blood. He had just been flattened by the canon-rack thing – or, rather, that was the only logical explanation. Nobody had actually seen it happen. He limped up some stairs and lay in the corner by the front doors of some building. A little girl was hanging out there; she reached out to pet him and he snapped at her, nipping her hand. She got scared and almost cried, but when I told her that he was hurt got serious and quiet and nodded. I was surprised that the kid was able to pull herself together so quickly.
I came up to him and we looked at each other for a while. I let him sniff my hand, as is usually my way of introducing myself to cats. He let me pet him. I don't remember who got the vet, but the vet came, took one look and went for a pill that would put him to sleep. There was nothing to do.
The rest of it was a corny movie: eulogy voiceover, "you were the king of dogs" etc. I woke up for a minute, gasped at having just woken up, and went back to sleep to see how he'd take it. I don't remember whether I actually saw this, but was certain that he was offered the pill, considered it, and took it.
We were performing. At one point, I (among some others) was done performing, and we went to the other side of the (huge, open) stage to watch more of the action. Hm, perhaps it wasn't a stage but a stadium-like place. There was a lot of space, it was a large spectacle.
They wheeled in the big canon-rack thing. It went in amongst the crowd, large square metal rods sticking out like rays of a star, and settled down. I never did figure out what exactly its function was. The next thing I remember is the dog, limping away as quickly as he could, the entire hind half of his body completely flat.
There was no blood. He had just been flattened by the canon-rack thing – or, rather, that was the only logical explanation. Nobody had actually seen it happen. He limped up some stairs and lay in the corner by the front doors of some building. A little girl was hanging out there; she reached out to pet him and he snapped at her, nipping her hand. She got scared and almost cried, but when I told her that he was hurt got serious and quiet and nodded. I was surprised that the kid was able to pull herself together so quickly.
I came up to him and we looked at each other for a while. I let him sniff my hand, as is usually my way of introducing myself to cats. He let me pet him. I don't remember who got the vet, but the vet came, took one look and went for a pill that would put him to sleep. There was nothing to do.
The rest of it was a corny movie: eulogy voiceover, "you were the king of dogs" etc. I woke up for a minute, gasped at having just woken up, and went back to sleep to see how he'd take it. I don't remember whether I actually saw this, but was certain that he was offered the pill, considered it, and took it.
