Bethany laughed. It was a hearty laugh. She just got up and was having her first cup of coffee. Now she was remembering her dream. She could hear it more than see it. A group of deer were gathered across the street from her apartment when she was walking her dog and they seemed to be talking. Not talking in the form of words, but rather in a language all their own. And her dog seemed to understand it; they even walked toward each other as if communicating by some telepathic language that only the deer and her dog understood.
All she could remember was that it sounded like nonsense syllables, almost like the scat syllables that jazz singers use when improvising vocally so that they can imitate instruments with their voice.
What did it mean? Why had she had the dream? Why had she remembered it so vividly? Was she having a break-through or a break-down? Was it some sign for her future or had she simply had too many cocktails with her friends the night before at the celebration?
The celebration. Maybe that was it. Her best friend, Portia, had just gotten accepted into veterinary school and was all excited because she’d dreamed of working with animals since she was seven and now saw her chance to move to where she’d help farmers with their horses and cows and all of the other animals.
Bethany wondered if she should tell Portia about her dream. Maybe Portia would understand and be able to explain it. Or, maybe, Portia would tell her that it meant that they should both become veterinarians. It would be fun to continue going to school together, but Bethany had no desire to become a vet, no matter how much she loved animals – too much blood and stuff like that, she thought. No. Better to go to the petting zoo when she needed a horse or cow “fix”.
Bethany poured a second cup of coffee and looked at her dog who was now looking up at her with hopeful eyes that clearly read – please take me out again.
Maybe the deer would be there again and, maybe, they’d be having another conversation and, maybe, this time, Bethany would understand it a little better.
And then a new thought hit her. Maybe she could try to write it down and create the first animal language dictionary. Maybe she was meant to be the next Doctor Doolittle.
Bethany laughed. It was a hearty laugh.
All she could remember was that it sounded like nonsense syllables, almost like the scat syllables that jazz singers use when improvising vocally so that they can imitate instruments with their voice.
What did it mean? Why had she had the dream? Why had she remembered it so vividly? Was she having a break-through or a break-down? Was it some sign for her future or had she simply had too many cocktails with her friends the night before at the celebration?
The celebration. Maybe that was it. Her best friend, Portia, had just gotten accepted into veterinary school and was all excited because she’d dreamed of working with animals since she was seven and now saw her chance to move to where she’d help farmers with their horses and cows and all of the other animals.
Bethany wondered if she should tell Portia about her dream. Maybe Portia would understand and be able to explain it. Or, maybe, Portia would tell her that it meant that they should both become veterinarians. It would be fun to continue going to school together, but Bethany had no desire to become a vet, no matter how much she loved animals – too much blood and stuff like that, she thought. No. Better to go to the petting zoo when she needed a horse or cow “fix”.
Bethany poured a second cup of coffee and looked at her dog who was now looking up at her with hopeful eyes that clearly read – please take me out again.
Maybe the deer would be there again and, maybe, they’d be having another conversation and, maybe, this time, Bethany would understand it a little better.
And then a new thought hit her. Maybe she could try to write it down and create the first animal language dictionary. Maybe she was meant to be the next Doctor Doolittle.
Bethany laughed. It was a hearty laugh.
