A tiger by the tail …

When I was a child I would frequently dream about having a pet tiger. In my dreams, my tiger and I would frolic and play. He would even fetch sticks, and play hide-and-go-seek. We were inseparable. Sort of like Calvin and Hobbes only I was slightly less irritating than Calvin, and my tiger never spoke to me or anyone else. These were magical dreams fueled by the imagination of a child. But inevitably the dream would end. To this day I can still remember the pain I felt upon waking only to find my tiger was not lying next to my bed. I don’t remember my dreams as vividly as I did as a child, but I definitely remember this feeling of loss. Even if it isn’t tigers I dream of anymore.