on dreams, fulfilled and recurring
Monday, November 28, 2011 at 1:41PM 
In July of 1996, I realized one of my life long desires - getting a dog.
And what a dog I got.
Radar the Dog had a lot to live up to - 19 years of expectations. Live up to them he did. He blew them out of the water.
He was the best-looking, funny-looking kid with the big nose. An impatient dog, who let me teach him how to play dead. Who still played with me after i kicked him and put him in a cast. Who ate a toonie and lived. Who still hung out with me after I forced him to vomit up a Toblerone bar by squirting hydrogen peroxide down his throat. Who'd fall asleep with his head on my lap. Who would run away the second you let him off his leash but would always come back if you asked him if he wanted to go for a walk.
Radar died nearly 3 years ago. I still miss him.
I haven't gotten another dog in part because I worry that Radar set the bar for dogs so high every other dog would be a disappointment.
Every so often I have a dream about Radar and those are the happiest nights when my perfect puppy with all of his flaws comes to visit me for a few hours. We run around, play chase, go for walks.
In a life filled with recurring dreams, these are the only ones that have ever been happy.
About a week ago, I took my first dose of Mefloquine in preparation for my trip to India. I hemmed and hawed for a long, long time before taking this medication. If I didn't take it I couldn't go to India, but if I did take it I'd be risking some very serious side effects. I don't really know why, but I swallowed the pill, consequences be damned.
Five days later, everything seems to be okay. I've had one dizzy spell, but that was after sitting in a sauna and then walking into an outdoor courtyard completely naked. My vision seems okay. I've not felt nauseous.
One of the commonly reported symptoms is terrible, and terribly vivid, nightmares. I haven't had these.
My dreams haven't been terrible but they have been cruel.
Last night, I dreamt about Radar but, instead of it all being fun and games, he had gone outside and when he came back it looked as if he'd been attacked by something. Disfigured and injured.
There's no giant moral to this. No lesson learned. I've just spent today irked that my favourite recurring dream has been trashed.
