I MAKE no claim to be an interpreter of dreams – but I sure had a weird one the other night.
There I was, in dream-time, casually sauntering along a country road … when I passed a pub.
The publican came out of the front door as I walked by and pointed to a patch of ground by the pub’s frontage where an old white car was parked.
“I’ve had a lot of bother with that spot,� says the publican to me.
“Oh aye,� says I, barely interested.
“Yes,� says mine none-too-genial host, “we’ve had no end of trouble with horses being tied up there – horses!
“But I’ve fixed ’em. I keep this old car parked there now all the time, so the horses can’t get there.�
Well, I nod to him and pass on by, not thinking much at all about the pub landlord’s equine dilemma.
But after taking a few paces I began to feel what he’d done had been most unfair to the horses – preventing them from being where they (or their owners) wanted them to be.
Now, I don’t like to see nasty things done to animals, so I decided to do something in defence of the horses’ rights to be in that space now occupied by the old white car.
As it happened, I was at the time carrying a 4-foot stick with a horseshoe stuck to the end – to make a kind of branding pole, if you see what I mean.
I know, it’s strange (and, frankly, a bit sinister) to be carrying a stick with horseshoe on the end but, hey, this was a dream.
But stranger still, as I progressed up the lane, I spotted a handy vat of boiling tar or black paint of some sort.
So I dipped by horseshoe branding stick in the vat of black stuff and walked back with it, full of righteous indignation, to the white car.
Then I started to make black hoof prints over the bonnet and up on the roof of the car – as if to depict that a horse had walked right on top and over it.
“That’ll teach them to restrict the beautiful horses,� I though to myself as I did this.
But then the publican came out, his face puce with anger at me, and his fists clenched. He was joined by two equally furious customers from the pub.
They clearly wanted to kill me. So like a sensible coward I scarpered, taking my stick with the horseshoe on the end with me.
It was at this point that my darling Posh Boots noticed I had been shaking violently and screaming in my sleep – so she grabbed hold of me and comforted me.
And as I woke up I remembered – in vivid detail for once – the very strange dream I’d had.
What can a dream like that mean? Well, anyone who can enlighten me please leave a comment on this blog. I have no connection whatsoever with horses, by the way.
I can only think the dream was in some way about freedom being stifled – and me defiantly trying to do something about it.
I can certainly see how horses can be symbols of freedom.
If the freedom meaning is the case then my dream could be prophetic.
It could certainly be said to resonate with meaning for the millions of Britons who now suffer daily, living in a damaged, sorrowing, and hurt country with its liberties slowly and surely slipping away.
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johnny wrote...
Hi Seve,I think i can sort your dream out: many years ago not long before i got married, i had dreams about loss of freedom and panic attacks, wondering ... am i doing the right thing? I dont suppose it will be long now, till you and the lovely posh boots take the plunge. Al i can say steve is jump in with the rest of us, it will be the best thing you have ever done in your life. I've never regretted a moment of it. Regards to you and post boots, johnny.
REGAN REPLIED: Thanks, Johnny. She's the best thing. I'll tie the knot as soon as it is technically possible.
Posted by: johnny | July 2, 2008 4:17 PM