Last night was bath night for our Chihuahuas, Max and Sierra. They are both only slightly reluctant to be bathed, and seldom make much of a scene.

Max is easier, since he’s a smooth coat. I scrub and rinse him, then dry him with a towel and let him go. He runs several circles through the house, then finds a blanket under which to burrow.

Sierra is a long coat variety, so once I’ve toweled her off, I put her in Abby’s lap for Abby to comb her out. At a certain point in that process, I lift Sierra’s hindquarters so Abby can comb and trim her bloomers.

Then, last night…

Dream: Darth Vadar has taken over a farm, and is using Mad Max style motorcycles to enslave the residents. The mother, Virginia, is ingratiating herself to him by baking him pies, and gets occasional concessions.

The children are trying to contact Sweden using superconducting carrots, which they carefully peel and hang to dry behind the barn, to make a shortwave radio to call for help.

I am then riding in a Da Vinci glider over the Southwest. A gust of wind nearly upends me, but I recover to find that from a very high altitude, cities and states are clearly marked, but in all capital letters, which I find annoying.