When I was little I would always wake up remembering my dreams in vivid detail. Now I remember that I dreamed, but can’t recall what about.
But there’s one recurring dream I have that I do remember. When I was in college I had a boa constrictor. His unofficial name was Flex Jr., after my oldest brothers snake, Flex, who slithered away one summer day, never to be found again.
As he grew, Flex Jr. moved from tiny mice to small mice, large mice, small rats, medium rats and, finally, jumbo rats. The least fun I had was during feeding time.
Some people probably get off on it. I don’t. It sucked having to dangle a huge rat by the tail over the cage while Flex patiently checked it out with his flickering tongue before finally mauling the rat.
I went to France for my junior year of college and left Flex in the capable hands of my brother. However, once his landlord discovered a 6 1/2 foot snake, Stephen had to give it up, and dropped Flex on my not quite as capable roommate.
Somehow, Flex died while I was in France. While I was bummed at the time, in retrospect I am appreciative that I don’t now have a 12 foot snake on my hands with a taste for bunny rabbits.
So anyway….to my dream.
My dream is that I discover that Flex is still alive. He has somehow actually survived all these years, hasn’t eaten in months or years, and I have to feed him. Sometimes the dream is that I discover not one, but multiple snakes to take care of.
Last night my dream was similar, only Flex grew legs and a tail, like a lizard, so he could crawl around. When I picked him up his shape changed back to a snake. That’s when I woke up.
