I am given a cabin/house on a river. A man, rich, my neighbor up on the hill gives it to me. He watches me. I never see him. I always feel him watching me. There are lots of children, cats and dogs in this house. I am being artistic and making things. I am checking my horoscope. The man asks me to his house for a date. At first I am reluctant, but my teenage daughter convinces me it will be fun. I go to the bathroom to get ready. There are 3 bathtubs, all ornate, gold faucets, lots of mirrors, and bare walls. It's like I'm trying to create a mansion out of a cabin. There are a lot of different shampoos all different colors, each one vibrationally in tune with a different aspect of my chart. The bath tub is special; it massages away my arthritis. I get in and look in my mirrors. My hair is curly, white, and there are large bald spots. I am appalled. As I play with my hair, I pull some out. Then they grow longer and I put it back on my head and I'm O.K. I dress up real snazzy. I go out on the back porch. I see men fishing in the stream/river. Work crews are fixing a road on the hill. My brother Jake is there, on the porch. I go back in. There are lots of teen age kids, some adopted. They are in a downstairs bathroom. A long line of cats in a catalogue. Each has a special shampoo for them. First, a white Persian gets a banana shampoo, then a gray cat gets a green one, and on down the line. Now they are real and one reaches out his paws and hugs the next cat's head, his green shampoo gets on the other one. Then my teen age boy/me says, "What next?," and opens the door to the other bathroom (I think I was just observing this). A young boy is in there. The boy/me says, "Well, heavens, when I was your age, I was in the bathroom a lot too, but not with a girl," as he sees a young girl. The other boy says, "Yes, but see she's a XXX girl (meaning before puberty, no breasts, very boyish but pretty). The boy/me says, "Well, at least XXX isn't giving me any trouble. He's new to the family. I adopted him." Just then, we hear him upstairs crying out, "Stop it Yerg, stop it!" The boy goes upstairs and I follow. Lots of kids are up there. The young adopted person is upset because Yerg (a dog), is stepping on his art papers. I call Yerg to me (backwards for grey). He is a young man, dressed in a suit shirt and tie. I say, "You have to stop that. You are a dog." Yerg bends over and pats my head. I find it difficult to explain to him that he's a dog, not me. That's what I'm supposed to do to him. He seems confused and offended. The kids plead with me to just like him be as he is, and not insist he be a regular dog.