The thoughts I have as I watch my dog lying upon my lap.
What does she see while she dreams? Is her master calling her from afar? Is she running in a meadow or chasing a ball? Likely she is, and much more. I will never know.
My dog whimpers, sometimes, as she dreams, her hind legs jerking back and forth. Is she running from danger, from another dog, or just running? I withhold the need to wake her, to calm her fears, to pat her on the head and reassure her she is safe at home with me. There must be a reason she has these dreams, so I don’t disturb her. But what is the reason? I will never know.
If I could read her mind, what might I learn of her? Her eyes are moving now underneath her eyelids, slowly at first, sometimes opening just enough so that the whites are visible, her eyes having rolled back into their sockets. She is in deep sleep; I should let her sleep. Why should I? I will never know.
When she awakens, her first act is to lick my ear. She knew she was safe, safe to sleep a deep sleep, and it fills my heart with joy in that observation.
But what goes through her mind as I sleep? I will never know.