Last night I dreamed we had a pet Tyrannosaurus Rex. We named her “Godzilla”. They’re cute when they come out of the egg, but they grow fast, and they’re really very impractical pets.
As we were hiding out outside the house, with her prowling around inside making a terrible mess, we were facing the difficult and shaming responsibility of calling in professional dinosaur wranglers to take her away to a preserve. I felt terribly irresponsible, because I’ve always believed you shouldn’t take on a pet you can’t keep when it grows up, but I really was starting to be afraid of her.
As I started to wake up, I found the dream funny, but I kept thinking, “Yeah, but what are we going to do with our pet Tyrannosaur?” (It took quite awhile to get to the level of consciousness where I remembered that they’d all been dead for 65 million years and it was very unlikely that had one for a pet).