Pinniped Protests

In this dream I was attending a sea lion show at another zoo with family. For some reason, my family are always present in zoo dreams these days, even though they've traditionally been lonesome experiences. I generally don't get on well with sea lions in dreams, having been badly mauled on two previous occasions, and last night's was no exception. It started with us watching the demonstration at a poorly attended show, sitting on concrete concentric rings around the main stage. There were three pinnipeds at the performance, a black sea lion, an albino fur seal, and a strange hybrid, a creature with the iconic spiraling tusk of a narwhal but the body of a walrus.

About halfway through the show I suddenly remembered that sea lion performances were cruel and so chivied my family into protesting. Our protest was probably one of the weakest and most impotent demonstrations ever made in the history of animal rights campaigning, and mostly involved us not clapping with the rest of the audience. A trick that the staff were particularly fond of making their animals perform was a maneuver involving the sea-lions balancing on their throats whilst raising their bodies and hind quarters vertically into the air and balancing in this position. It caused tremendous pressure to weigh down on their necks and spines.

Near the end of the performance, the white fur seal broke out of the arena and came galloping towards me. I decided that the best tactic was to show no fear and stand my ground, but this time it had no effect. The seal rammed into me like Pierre, our standard poodle, and began chewing on my arms and torso. I tried to push its head away but it kept bouncing back to deliver more bites on my hands. I attempted to run but it maintained a firm grip on my arm, so I started punching it in the head. As soon as it released its jaws for a second, I took the opportunity to run for the car as fast as I could, but the seal came after me in hot pursuit, honking and hollering in fury. I woke up before more damage could be done.

Zoo Freaks

The other night I returned to the zoo featured in Eccentric Exhibits with my whole family. The zoo turned out to be in Japan and I had a fuller sense of its layout and attractions this time round. We began our tour by entering the same zone as the previous dream, only the chimps had been moved on and replaced with a large pangolin exhibit. I remember somebody commenting, "What the hell is a pangolin?" They sat curled into tight balls on the branches with their backs to us, fine white hairs jutting out from the cracks between their armour scales. Nearby was a terrarium holding frilled lizards from Australia only these curious specimens had a mantle of peacock feathers around their necks as opposed to the customary skin ruff. When they opened their frills, the feathers vibrated and rattled in a menacing manner like the Dilophosaurus from Jurassic Park. Other oddities in this revamped section were pale axolotls lying slumped on the floor of their tank with glazed expressions.

Eager to experience more of the zoo before I woke up, I left the building to see some outside exhibitions, accompanied by my eldest sister. Peafowl roamed loose about the grounds, but the overall park was far from scenic, being something of a drab concrete place with artificial waterways in dugout canals. Boat tours operated around the zoo, carrying passengers from one area to the next. Normally I'm not a fan of these sort of things, preferring to explore zoos on foot, but this one looked quite fun, chugging through flocks of waterfowl and penguins. Hoping to take a ride later, I went over to the 'Apple Zone' and saw a spacious cage holding what appeared to be two domestic tabbies. They lay alongside one another, giving each other head massages with their paws. Paradoxically, an albino ligeress was cramped in a tiny holding cell nearby. I tried not to get too close because it looked like she could easily escape should the notion take her. I noticed that her eyes did not match, one being green, the other lilac. Next to the liger was a sleeping normal tiger. I use normal to denote species, because this creature was far from regular. The information panel called it the Sega tiger, and sure enough, the cat's forelimb had been tattooed with the Sega symbol. More electronic brand advertising had been applied to its other leg. I remarked to my sister on how 'chavvy' the tiger looked.

The next part of the zoo promised real life dragons, and not Komodos either. A long runway fenced on one side with wooden panels with spy holes set into them was crowded with Japanese visitors angling for a glance of the legendary beasts. Whilst there were in fact real baby dragons on the other side, they were something of a disappointment. Squinting through the hole, I saw one of the plastic looking creature's waddling along clutching a large egg to its chest. The animal had stunted wings folded across its back, a dull bronzen glint to its scales, and a stance resembling a cheap garden ornament. A big furore concerning the arrival of some new dragon eggs was in operation and the guests seemed more interested in taking photos of these than the actual dragon juveniles guarding them. I decided that dragons were boring and woke up before seeing more. 

Cockatrice and Cassowary

A weekend dream featuring more animal visitors to the back garden, this time during the day. With threats emerging on campus in the form of ISIS arsonists, I was granted the day off and went home to the safety of Hao House. It was a blindingly hot summer's day, the sort that only ever really happens in dreams, and the garden was bathed in a fierce golden glow with a brilliant blue sky overhead. I stood in the kitchen looking out on the back lawn with Li when a loud cockerel crow broke the silence of the afternoon. A large creature with speckled brown feathered wings and a long reptilian tail flew in clumsy circles outside, crashing into the neighbours' trees and flapping around in the bushes like an oversized wood pigeon. I dismissed it as a "cockatrice, or basilisk" and focused my attention on an even larger creature right at the bottom of the garden, near the back fence.

It was a giant Southern, or double-wattled cassowary, a male, nearing the size of a Gastornis 'terror bird'. Its head and neck was a vivid toy box blue and its hair-like plumage a blueish black. The bird stalked out a small territory along the fence, as though patrolling an assigned area to protect. Knowing the highly aggressive nature of the Southern cassowary in Australia, I told Li that the mammoth bird must die, whereupon I began to arm myself with garden tools. As I gingerly approached the bird, anticipating a gruelling battle, I took note of the sickle-shaped helmet and javelin beak which could make short work of me, along with razor spurs on its legs which could eviscerate with a single kick. With my pitchfork at the ready, I got within striking distance and prepared to thrust.

Unexpectedly, the bird ignored my presence and seemed in no way alarmed or distressed. My resolve first began to falter, and then drop altogether when I realised the cassowary was harmless. Li came outside to join me and we inspected the surrounding area. Despite the great weight of the bird, the lawn was mostly untrampled and there was no damage to speak of. Some plastic portacabins which hadn't been there before had appeared, but other than that, we were content to leave things as they were. It was then that we discovered a nest hidden among the flowerbeds, with a solitary egg in its centre. As the cassowary became used to our presence, it allowed itself to be stroked, and eventually hugged. We decided to keep it on as a  pet to drive away unwanted intruders, yet it was also free to leave through the same way it had entered, through some broken slats in the fence to the meadows beyond.

The cockatrice, on the other hand, was not to be tolerated.

Silberrad Lions

The End is a big student party that takes place on campus once a year at the end of exams. Typically the squares are heaving with students who have been drinking since the early afternoon and in recent years, a small army of security guards have maintained a presence to control who enters and leaves. On the day of the End, university staff are advised to leave work an hour early in order to avoid the lockdown.

Last night I dreamt that the festival would be taking place predominantly in the new Silberrad student centre, where I work full time. I was working during the event on the ground floor, whilst the Vice Chancellor entertained distinguished guests on the first floor, and the SU decorated the building in the manner of an old-fashioned Italian town. It was already dark outside by the time the first of the students made their appearance, and despite security's perimeter barricades, some townies looking for a fight had somehow managed to slip in.

Two of the men started following me around and giving me grief, but because I was in work mode, I was not allowed to break protocol and defend myself. I reported them to security but they had their hands full and were unable to help. Some hours later, I heard a scream, followed by a roar, and the next thing I knew, the centre was overrun by lions. For some odd reason, the fact there were lions was not so much surprising as the fact that they were able to get past security without anybody noticing.

As the chaos unfolded, I took the opportunity to revenge myself on the two townies. I picked up a broken drinks tray and gashed the bigger of the them across the back of his neck, severing his spinal chord with its sharp side. He slumped to the ground gushing blood and his friend came running at me in rage. I lured him away to the lobby where I knew the lions were and left him to his fate, then made my escape up a back stairwell.

Having a more detailed knowledge of the new building, I was able to avoid a good mauling, at least until the end of the dream when dawn broke and the lions started hunting me properly. Just as they had me cornered, a park ranger dressed as a great white hunter turned up commanded them to lay off me. He told me not to show any fear, as they were just like big dogs, with more bark than bite. Looking about me, I saw that many students were already dead or dying, and the car park was full of ambulances and police cars.

My attempts to stand up to the lions were pitifully meek, my gaze deflected by their glowing amber eyes and enraged, wrinkled snarls. Sensing my fear, they came running at me again, nipping my arms with their fangs and raking my back with their claws. The ranger told me to stick my elbows out and push them off, but the experience was too traumatic so I decided to wake up. This is not the first time I've dreamt about lions being a threatening presence.

Below is an image from Giovanni Battista Piranesi's 'Imaginary Prisons' series which I'm convinced has wrought a strong effect upon my dreamscapes over the years.