My "Rock-dog" in the summer of his lifeI woke up happy this morning because last night I dreamed about Rock, a rare event these days, but one I recognize as significant, for I believe that those whom we have loved and lost can visit us in the realm of sleep.
I dreamed I was standing in a huge crowd, people were calm but the energy was chaotic. I could see an escalator carrying people in one area just ahead of where I stood, but the place itself was vague, not a shopping mall, not outdoors and not indoors.
The next thing I knew was that I needed to find Rock. I called his name and out of the din of voices I heard his meow in reply. Just like that we found each other. I reached down and picked him up and held him in my arms. He was paler than he had been in life – his coat was a soft gray instead of Brown Tabby, a purebred Maine Coon coloring that often appears black.
Rock is letting me know that no matter what, we will always be able to recognize one another whenever and wherever we meet again. I will always recognize his voice and he mine. The paler color of his coat is a sign of time passing, “going gray” and the gray shadow side of life.
More than a year has passed since I laid eyes on my Rachmaninoff. He’s gray, gone away, faded...dead.
“Dead, did I say? There is no death, only a change of worlds.” ~Chief Seattle
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