Skunk, Skunk, Skunk, Badger!
Nov. 3rd, 2023 03:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
billroperLet me start by saying that none of the participants who were dragged into last night's dream by my subconscious would do anything nearly as silly as what actually happened in my dream.
So in this dream, it was evening and I was arriving home with Gretchen and our guests, Jeff and Maya Bohnhoff and Erica Neely. (My subconscious, at least, has good taste in guests.) As we were approaching the door, we became aware that there was a skunk hiding in the bushes. This is bad, because Ruby the Dog has a thing for meddling in the affairs of skunks, at which point it becomes *everyone's* problem.
I sent Gretchen and Maya in to keep Ruby occupied while we considered how to convince the skunk to go somewhere else without getting everyone sprayed. A more intelligent subconscious would have suggested that we *all* go in and wait for the skunk to leave, but no. Jeff, Erica, and I were standing outside debating the best way to get rid of the skunk.
After some discussion, Dream Jeff suggested that he would go get some food for the skunk in the hope that this would help us get rid of it. You may note at this point that Dream Jeff is not nearly as smart as *Real* Jeff, because I am convinced that Real Jeff would never come up with a plan nearly this stupid. A few minutes later, Jeff emerged with a paper bag full of food for me to throw into the bushes for the skunk. You may ask several questions at this point, among which are "What kind of cockamamie plan is this?", "Is the skunk supposed to be here trick or treating and will leave if bribed with a bag of food?", and "Why is Bill going to chuck the bag into the bush full of skunk?"
The last, at least, is easy to answer. I am the fool who once made French fries by inverting the bag of frozen fries over the very hot oil, so my judgment is apparently running *very* high on the suspect list.
The bag was chucked into the bushes from a hypothetically safe distance. There was a rustling in the bushes, followed by a very angry skunk running out in my direction, bent upon mayhem. I turned to run (I was not the only one who turned to run, but I was both closest and slowest, so my attempt at running away was the least successful) as the angry skunk leaped onto my back and starting clawing at my jacket.
I urgently wanted to be somewhere else. Jeff and Erica were shouting at me saying things like "Don't let him spray you!" Yes, that would be a good plan. I am not sure *how* one stops a skunk bent upon mayhem that is clinging to your back from spraying you, but I am *positive* that being sprayed at that range is *absolutely* something that I want to avoid.
As the mayhem continued, I eventually found myself flat on the ground, on my stomach, and facing my antagonist. Happily, I was facing the *front* of my antagonist, not the *back*, because, well, skunk.
Except as I looked at the critter in the dim light, I suddenly realized that we had not actually annoyed a *skunk*. We had annoyed a *badger*.
The good news was that I was not about to get sprayed. The bad news was that I was facing an ill-tempered badger, which is not that great of an idea either, except that the badger, apparently embarrassed by my discovery that he was not a skunk, decided to leave in a hurry. This was a relief.
I was somewhat the worse for wear, so Jeff and Erica got me to a car, where I climbed into the front passenger seat for a trip to the hospital to make sure that nothing too bad had happened to me. My right leg hurt a lot, and I had it hanging out the door of the car, shaking it, trying to get the pain to subside...
And that is when I woke up. And I realized that my right leg hurt a lot.
See, I am historically subject to getting a knot in one or the other of my calves, usually when sleeping, although there was one memorable incident in the swimming pool when I was young that resulted in an overnight stay in the hospital while they tried to figure out how I had managed to get quite such a spectacular charley horse. And if you flex your muscles and your foot in the right direction, you can usually convince the knot to go away.
I was not so lucky this morning. Nothing I tried was working.
Well, if the usual ideas don't work, it is time to try something else. I really didn't want to wake Gretchen (I was rather amazed that Gretchen wasn't already awake by this point), so I decided to try standing up (ha!) and walking to the bathroom. Happily, my leg felt like supporting my weight, so I did the Frankenstein walk to the bathroom, spent some time standing there, leaned against the counter, and eventually the trick of putting weight on the leg caused the knot to let go.
This made me very happy, because when the knot went, almost all of the pain went with it, leaving just the residual irritation from the clenched muscle. I took two naproxen and went back to bed. And slept.
No further dream badgers were encountered for the rest of the night. Nor did I find any *other* ways to injure myself while sleeping.
*sheesh*
So in this dream, it was evening and I was arriving home with Gretchen and our guests, Jeff and Maya Bohnhoff and Erica Neely. (My subconscious, at least, has good taste in guests.) As we were approaching the door, we became aware that there was a skunk hiding in the bushes. This is bad, because Ruby the Dog has a thing for meddling in the affairs of skunks, at which point it becomes *everyone's* problem.
I sent Gretchen and Maya in to keep Ruby occupied while we considered how to convince the skunk to go somewhere else without getting everyone sprayed. A more intelligent subconscious would have suggested that we *all* go in and wait for the skunk to leave, but no. Jeff, Erica, and I were standing outside debating the best way to get rid of the skunk.
After some discussion, Dream Jeff suggested that he would go get some food for the skunk in the hope that this would help us get rid of it. You may note at this point that Dream Jeff is not nearly as smart as *Real* Jeff, because I am convinced that Real Jeff would never come up with a plan nearly this stupid. A few minutes later, Jeff emerged with a paper bag full of food for me to throw into the bushes for the skunk. You may ask several questions at this point, among which are "What kind of cockamamie plan is this?", "Is the skunk supposed to be here trick or treating and will leave if bribed with a bag of food?", and "Why is Bill going to chuck the bag into the bush full of skunk?"
The last, at least, is easy to answer. I am the fool who once made French fries by inverting the bag of frozen fries over the very hot oil, so my judgment is apparently running *very* high on the suspect list.
The bag was chucked into the bushes from a hypothetically safe distance. There was a rustling in the bushes, followed by a very angry skunk running out in my direction, bent upon mayhem. I turned to run (I was not the only one who turned to run, but I was both closest and slowest, so my attempt at running away was the least successful) as the angry skunk leaped onto my back and starting clawing at my jacket.
I urgently wanted to be somewhere else. Jeff and Erica were shouting at me saying things like "Don't let him spray you!" Yes, that would be a good plan. I am not sure *how* one stops a skunk bent upon mayhem that is clinging to your back from spraying you, but I am *positive* that being sprayed at that range is *absolutely* something that I want to avoid.
As the mayhem continued, I eventually found myself flat on the ground, on my stomach, and facing my antagonist. Happily, I was facing the *front* of my antagonist, not the *back*, because, well, skunk.
Except as I looked at the critter in the dim light, I suddenly realized that we had not actually annoyed a *skunk*. We had annoyed a *badger*.
The good news was that I was not about to get sprayed. The bad news was that I was facing an ill-tempered badger, which is not that great of an idea either, except that the badger, apparently embarrassed by my discovery that he was not a skunk, decided to leave in a hurry. This was a relief.
I was somewhat the worse for wear, so Jeff and Erica got me to a car, where I climbed into the front passenger seat for a trip to the hospital to make sure that nothing too bad had happened to me. My right leg hurt a lot, and I had it hanging out the door of the car, shaking it, trying to get the pain to subside...
And that is when I woke up. And I realized that my right leg hurt a lot.
See, I am historically subject to getting a knot in one or the other of my calves, usually when sleeping, although there was one memorable incident in the swimming pool when I was young that resulted in an overnight stay in the hospital while they tried to figure out how I had managed to get quite such a spectacular charley horse. And if you flex your muscles and your foot in the right direction, you can usually convince the knot to go away.
I was not so lucky this morning. Nothing I tried was working.
Well, if the usual ideas don't work, it is time to try something else. I really didn't want to wake Gretchen (I was rather amazed that Gretchen wasn't already awake by this point), so I decided to try standing up (ha!) and walking to the bathroom. Happily, my leg felt like supporting my weight, so I did the Frankenstein walk to the bathroom, spent some time standing there, leaned against the counter, and eventually the trick of putting weight on the leg caused the knot to let go.
This made me very happy, because when the knot went, almost all of the pain went with it, leaving just the residual irritation from the clenched muscle. I took two naproxen and went back to bed. And slept.
No further dream badgers were encountered for the rest of the night. Nor did I find any *other* ways to injure myself while sleeping.
*sheesh*