Killer duck...

I am sorry to say that this post is true. I wish I were kidding because it's a little embarrassing.

I woke up one morning in London and was really upset because I had had one of those dreams that are really realistic and vivid. You know... the kind that when you wake up you aren't really sure if it happened or not. (I had one last night that Ken woke up and cooked eggs. I asked his today if he had actually done it or not. Go figure!) Am I the only one who has these weird dream experiences?

Anyway, in my London dream my dog Tank was killed by a duck. Yes, you read that right. Killed by a duck. I watched it all happen in my dream as a duck pecked Tank's head right off his neck. It happened on my parents back porch and my dad buried him for me. I know, I know... it's dumb. And Ken laughed and laughed about it when I told him that morning. But it ended up as some comic relief quite a few times, and we actually cracked a duck joke tonight.

At one point, I thought it might have been a pigeon instead of a duck in my dream.

There are massive amounts of pigeons in Europe.

Nope. It pretty much looked like a mallard.

I am happy to report that it was all a dream and Tank is alive and well. Tank still has his head and there are no ducks within sight or sound of him.

Seriously... watch out!