Dream 2: 7/23/21

Later last night, I had another dream. I dreamed that there was a little dog, medium-small in size, long-haired, tan and off-white in color – so disheveled and sad and forlorn and sick-looking. (I recognized it later today in my reflection as symbolizing myself.) Its collar was attached to a leash, and the leash had gotten stuck in an elevator, that was heading downwards, dragging the leash and the poor little dog with it. The dog was not terribly harmed, however just a little bit shaken up and gently beaten up by the impact with the elevator door. It had such a look of resignation and sadness on its face. As I looked at the dog in this moment, it was then that I saw a pile of its feces under and next to it. The poor dog. The fecal matter was much of it old, indicating how long this problem of its waste accumulating with no one to clean up after it had been going on. I felt so bad for it. I wanted to adopt it and take care of it, but I did not feel strong enough. We were in an apartment, and an old coworker, whose name also was Michael, was there. He was tall and thick-set and very energetic. I asked him to take care of the dog, which he readily, happily did. All the while, as I observed Michael with the dog, I wished that I were strong and healthy enough to take care of it myself. Sometimes Michael and I would have very friendly and energized conversations – very enjoyable. He sometimes dressed very playfully. Sometimes we would go out in his car on an adventure…