tend to be very individualistic. Most of us dream often, many have recurring
dreams, and a few of us have the odd dream that we may have only had once, but
one that stays with us forever. Such was my dream of the wolf.
1964 and I and a partner had spent most of the summer doing recon geology in
to camp we got supper, undertook the necessary camp chores, and hit the sack in
anticipation of another early morning and full day. After what turned out to be
a couple hours of sleep, I was suddenly “conscious” of a weight across my
chest, a weight which was also pinning down my right arm. The weight, I
gradually came to “realize”, was the result of a wolf which had its front
paws across my chest as it stared intently, but not menacingly, into my sleeping
Try as I
might, I could not move my right arm to throw the wolf off my chest. My
struggles obviously became vocal as my tent mate finally woke me up and asked
what was wrong. As reality returned the picture of the wolf was clearly
imprinted upon my conscious memory, and I related the events of the past minute
or so to my tent mate. Interestingly, my right arm felt as tired as if it had in
reality been unsuccessfully trying to move a heavy object. Other than my
dignity, all else was well, and we both quickly fell back to sleep.
it has never been forgotten, the dream has never reoccurred. Its significance,
for those who believe in such things, and if indeed it had any, has not yet been
revealed. I continue to wait for a sign.