It was only a matter of time, really, until I had another Army dream. This was my first since I’ve been teaching here.
I’m in a large, spacious dark wooden building somewhere on campus. The building looks like a cross between a conference center and a cathedral, and there are big important formal military functions going on. I’m looking for Tink, who’s hiding and upset because she’s got a cut in one of the pads in her paw. I’m wearing dress gray with my old medals and decorations. Senior faculty and other Army officers and cadets are all crossing and entering and leaving the main room. I hear Tink yowl from an adjoining room.
I turn to move in that direction, to find her, but someone puts his hand on my shoulder. I turn around. It’s Bill Clinton, looking very large and muscular and imposing in his dress grays as well. And he’s got a medal on a ribbon around his neck, in the manner of a Congressional Medal of Honor, only it’s a lowly Army Achievement Medal. And Bill Clinton grins and good-naturedly punches me in the shoulder.
That’s my dream.
Aw, poor dream-Tink.