Last night I dreamed that I was raising a litter of beagles and baby velociraptors. I was raising the raptors with love, hoping that they wouldn’t be as vicious when they grew up. One of the raptors had killed one of the puppies and he and his siblings were feeding on it, but surprisingly, I wasn’t horrified. It was just part of the cycle of nature. Later, I was carrying one of the raptors around the house with me when I randomly ran into Peter Jackson and the hobbit actors, fresh from the Oscars. They were in the hallway linking the foyer with the den, setting up props and such because they needed to reshoot part of the Shelob’s cave scene.

I was surprisingly calm, obviously excited to be meeting them but not falling unconscious or fangirling too blatantly. I joked with Elijah about a recent magazine cover that had him with Liv Tyler, with Lij at least half a head taller than Liv. I asked him if Orlando had gotten him a box to stand on. He laughed, and all was merry.

Then I talked to Peter, who told me how dangerous it was to breed velociraptors, but just then, the raptor began licking my cheek. It had a scratchy tongue, exactly like a kitten. Peter smiled, but said that sooner or later it would start turning viscious, and that I shouldn’t expect it to be sweet when it grew up, and he didn’t want me to be disappointed.

Strange.