I had a dream last night that I was back in my childhood home. Not as a child, but as I am now: a mom with my three kids. It’s been fourteen years since I lived in that old, isolated country home and two years since my parents sold the ranch. The house sat in the back of our property, only accessible by a mile-long, eucalyptus-lined lane. A creek ran alongside the dirt lane, in front of our house, and off into the countryside.

In the dream, I was trying to leave the house. My parents weren’t around. I wanted to leave, but there was a problem-there were lions outside. There was no way to get to my car, especially with my three kids. I’m not sure if there were any phones around. Panic set in. In the midst of trying to figure out a plan, my brother strolls in the house. “What the hell? There’s lions out there!” I screamed.

He kind of shrugged and said, “No shit!” We both looked through the front window and sure enough, there were two lions. And strolling amongst these two terrifying beasts...none other than my fat little pug, Annie, apparently unfazed. My car was in the back near the sliding door. I decided that a)if the lions were in the front, there was a better chance of making it to my car, and b) if my thirteen pound dog could stroll fearlessly in front of the lions, I could dash frantically to my car.

So I did. I drove my car up to the sliding glass door. I crawled into the house, grabbed my kids, and asked my brother if he wanted to come. He shook his head. And I left him there. I hope he gets out okay.