Saturday, January 20, 2007

A Troubling Command

As I awoke this morning from uneasy dreams I found myself transformed in my bed into a gigantic insect. At once I realised I must still be dreaming and waited patiently until I woke up. As I awoke proper this morning from that uneasy dream, I found the little scottie dog from Monopoly lying on my abdomen. Before retiring last night I saw the dog in its usual spot atop my manteltop so it must somehow have arrived there independently, or else I have become a somnambulist and can no longer be trusted.

"Why sit ye there?" I asked.

Through the fug of newly-awoken senses, methought I discerned a faint voice whisper, "...Doctor, Horton..." At first I was understandably confused and replied that I was no doctor, having failed to gain the required exam results to get into medical school, and, indeed, to attend school in the first place. The voice was heard again, "...Doctor, Horton..."

"Can I confirm whether you are designating me with an erroneous honorific or whether you are issuing an imperative?" said I. The voice only repeated, "...Doctor, Horton..." I reasoned that a pewter dog, supernaturally imbued with the ability to communicate and with a past record of ensuring my safety and wellbeing, would be unlikely to use its rare powers to flatter me by giving me a false title in the early hours of a Saturday morning. Thus I concluded that the dog was commanding me to visit a doctor. Presumably a doctor of medicine and not someone with a doctorate in Sociology or something equally moronic.

I immediately phoned the (medical) doctor and booked an appointment for Monday. Now all that remains is for me to worry that I have a fatal ailment and have but months to live.

No comments: