I had another footless dog dream last night. See, I don't have recurring dreams, but I have recurring dream themes. My generic anxiety dreams come in the form of missing the airplane: I'm late for my flight and don't make it to the airport in time, or I make it in time, but realize I left my suitcase somewhere. These are horrible, horrible dreams, characterized by increased sweating and a general feeling of discomfort the entire day following the dream, often in combination with unexplained bouts of crying.
The footless dog dreams are far less worrisome, as well as far less upsetting than they sound. There's never any gore or anything like that. It's usually more cartoon-ish, even claymation-ish. It started in 1997 when I was an exchange student in Sweden. Nanna was just about a year old, and I went to spend 4 months living in Uppsala to studying Swedish. Of course I felt guilty leaving my best friend and companion behind, and I had this dream where some random friend decided to make me feel better by mailing Nanna to me--only, to fit her into the box, they had to cut her feet off, kind of at the doggie elbow/knee joint. So my extreme joy and surprise that my puppy had been sent to me was instantly transformed into disappointment--not as in "Oh no! She's dead!" (the footless dogs of my dreams are never dead), but more like, "Aw, it's broken. I'll never get these legs back on right." A general sense of unpleasantness and mild anxiety.
In last night's footless dog dream, I was driving my Subaru with a friend, and Ozzy and Nanna were in the back like normal. We stopped at the top of a grassy hill where there was a field full of dogs for adoption. We decided to adopt 2 border collies and put them in the car. We drove to town (it was Eugene, OR where I attended college), and left all of the dogs in my car while we went for a walk. When we returned, one of the newly adopted dogs--which were now golden retrievers--had somehow gotten out of the car, but had cut (perhaps chewed) its foot off in the process. I called a few vets around town to see if anyone could sew it back on without an appointment, but nobody was able to help.
I don't know what kind of anxiety the footless dog dreams represent. I feel fine today, a little tired maybe. If anyone out there has any dream expertise, I love to know your interpretation of these footless dog dreams. For an illustration from last night's footless dog dream, click here.