I had a very weird dream Sunday night, Dec. 10 -- horrific, almost a nightmare. I was in some courtyward with an older lady, grandmotherly, nice. She had three dogs over yonder, a large collie/shepherd mix, and two thin greyhound-type puppies, growing, not yet mature. The large dog was named -- oddly -- Grandmother, and the twin puppies were called Junior.

Grandmother started getting hostile with Junior, and took their heads in her mouth. The woman I was standing with (note: standing) rushed off, maybe to her car, maybe to get a leash. She clearly intended to control the dogs.

Grandmother had gotten Junior over to a corner and was furiously swollen with combat rage, her hair raised, her body larger. She looked like some horrible, angry panda. She was biting Junior's head off. I watched it. Brutal. Savage.

Junior cried "No! No!" several times.

I thought: "I guess dogs can talk. All animals can say 'No.' It's such a core concept."

By now I was disabled, lying there, unable to move effectively. I feared that Grandmother would kill me next. But I told myself that she was so engorged with Junior that she would not attack me.

The nice older lady came back and I (no longer disabled) told her "Grandmother killed Junior and ate him."

She didn't like that news, but tried to be philosophical: "Oh well, it happens in the life of every dog."

I thought: "Every dog eats another dog? I don't think so."

Then arrived Paul Robinett, from YouTube. There was going to be a party, and he showed up with some other guests. He knew Grandmother and Junior too. He was also trying to take the horror in stride:

"I guess she just saw him in the kitchen, and ... BAM!" He chuckled, not because it was funny but in a what-are-ya-gonna-do? way.

The last part of the dream concerned a prior party, where someone had been instructed to give the first person bringing wine a sticker thanking them for that. But they gave the sticker to everyone who brought wine, so six or eight people showed up at this current party with the stickers.