A Dog Named Dottie

Last night, I had a dream. It was not a normal dream, where I don't really remember it. This dream was about a dog named Dottie.She visited me in the dream. I didn't just dream of her; she was there, in my dream with me. She was acting as my protector, loyal even after her death.

Let me back up and explain a little, before I continue. I first met Dottie in 1994 or thereabouts; she was this adorable looking ball of fur, who moved in across the street from my house. She was a mix between Australian Shepperd and Rottweiler, a black dog with gray spots and brown boots on her legs. Lean, sweet, and very very smart. I forget the exact chain of events, but my family and I ended up walking her with our dog five days a week. Over time, she and I developed a very strong bond. We did a lot of things together: swimming in the summer, running around, playing in the dirt pit in my front yard.
Especially the dirt pit. When I was young, I usually dug a big hole in the dirt pit every summer. Inevitably, Dottie was there to help me with the digging. She loved it. She'd dig like a crazy dog for ten minutes, then stop and let me get the loose dirt out of the hole. She would also stand there looking at me, waiting for me to through her a clod of dirt, which she would then catch, spit out, and look at me again. I admit, I never understood why she did that.
Ah, rocks. Dottie loved to play with them. She would take a rock that easily weighed several pounds, and push it around the dirt pit, the front yard, or wherever she happened to be, using her nose. It looked hilarious, yet she had so much fun doing that. Sometimes, I had to move the rock off the lawn so she wouldn't destroy it. When that happened, she would pick up the rock, and carry it back to the lawn! I've never seen a dog before or since that knew how to play with rocks. But Dottie knew.
As Dottie got older, she started losing mobility in her back legs, but she still enjoyed her walks, swimming, and other activities. The walks got shorter and shorter, but she still enjoyed them. The last time I saw her, she gave me a very enthusiastic greeting, complete with many of her signature face licks; she loved licking people with that tongue of hers.
Dottie passed away in mid 2006, at the ripe old age of 13. I missed her then, grieved, and went on with my life. I still think of her now and then, with fond memories of the good times.

That was the last time I saw her. Until last night.

I was dreaming. In my dream, I was trapped in a strange combination of my house and other houses I've been in. I couldn't find a way out of the house, and I wanted to be free. I was being held captive by people who I didn't really see clearly, but they kept me from leaving the house. I was sitting in a room resembling a sunroom, watching the raindrops run down the windows outside. I didn't know what to do.

Until Dottie came along.

She came running in, young and bouncy, on strong legs and body, having the time of her life. I was very happy to see her. She licked me, and I hugged her, pet her, and even gave her a belly rub. I told her, "I'm glad you came for me." For even though I was still trapped, she was there with me, and that gave me hope. Suddenly, one of my captors noticed that Dottie was with me. He tried to take Dottie away, but she wasn't having any of it. She chased him into another room, and with a growl and a great bark, my captors were gone. Evaporated into nothingness.
I was freed. Freed because of Dottie, a dog whom I loved, and still love to this day.

Then, I woke up.

I believe that in dreams, the body's spirit, or soul, leaves the body and goes wandering. In this way, I found Dottie and was able to see her again. Or she found me, I'm not sure which. This was the first time I'd seen her since she died. She's young again, and healthy, and having the time of her "life."
Seeing her happy makes me happy.
Truly, there are no limits to the love and loyalty of a dog.