I dreamed I was alone. It was not an altogether unpleasant dream: there were dogs in the dream, playing. In such a dream a person could be alone. I had another dream and in it I died bobsledding, but there were those same dogs, and they were thrown to safety. And another dream, with the same dogs, and me, beginning to think someone was planting dogs in my dreams to placate me, and in the dream the dogs were bartenders. I asked them if I was alone because of something I had done, and they told me they were dogs, not therapists. It was not an altogether unpleasant dream—dogs serving drinks and refusing me pity.


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