A Dog And Bullets: Concluding Post

You can follow this week’s analysis of a dream about a dog being killed by a bullet. When the dream was restated in its metaphoric form, we discovered that it could be interpreted in a number of different ways. Here it is:

Restated dream

There are a lot of parts of me all in one place having a good time. These parts of me are relaxing and letting off tensions with drinks. This part of me is my social network and it’s merry, happy. I become aware of my surroundings. I see a part of me that was my mentor when I was younger. This part of me was like a father to me. This part of me is there with his favorite, special, loving companion and protector. I am thrilled because I was out of touch with this part of me and missed it. But there are parts of me that are lethal projectiles flying around as well. They are designed to kill living things. I am uncomfortable and I have misgivings. I know something is going to happen before it does, so I move out of the line of fire and barely escape being wounded or killed. But my mentor’s loving protection ceases to exist. I take responsibility for that bad occurrence. There might have been a different outcome.

A question for the dreamer

In the dream, some aspect of the dreamer’s personality makeup has ceased to exist, destroyed almost violently—the dog symbol. We read that the dog represented both protection and companionship. This is now gone, and the question for the dreamer is whether this loss a good thing or a bad thing.

It could be that the dreamer has ignored an important part of herself, leaving herself vulnerable. But it is equally possible that the dreamer has simply changed over time and no longer needs this old protection. Or is there some other possibility yet to be considered? There is only one individual who can help answer those questions. That is the dreamer herself. This is what she had to say when asked:

“I have a really hard time letting go of things. Especially if there has been something of value in my life, I feel as if I dishonor it if I get rid of it, either figuratively or literally. A good example is that I kept my school papers from grade school well into adulthood before I finally tossed them. I did well in school and that part of my life was one I was proud of and identified with. For me, this dream is a restatement of the same theme, only now much later in my life: I want to honor something that, earlier, was really helpful to me. This “mentor” is well past its usefulness, but the only way I know to let it go is practically to be violent about it. I found it interesting that the choice was either that *I* get killed, or the old protective attitude dies.”

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