I seem to be living with Ralph and his wife in a house or small cabin and they're/we're moving out. Somebody else is helping too. There are also some little reptilian creatures living here, too, and they're just babies - 2 different kinds, one's a dragon, the other's sort of round-headed, there's only 2 or 3 of them. You have to watch them like a hawk, or they'll run around and the neighborhood kids'll grab them to play with and they think it's fun to throw them up in the air and try to make them fly. They don't fly. This is terrible. I run out and scream at the kids and they leave. Now Ralph (he's wearing his "coonskin" cap and funny jacket) has discovered somebody's stolen the television set from the bedroom. He's real upset about it, everybody is. We go on moving things. The others are outside and I'm in the front room - it's empty mostly. Ralph comes out of the bedroom looking dejected and sits heavily on a box or trunk next to the door, puts his hands on his knees. Looks defeated. I tell him he's lucky they didn't take anything else, look how much he still has. He cheers up a little, when I hear a call that the kids have the babies again and we go running out. It's terrible. This is kind of a park we're in, the day isn't bright but not overcast, the grass isn't green but not brown, nothing much to be seen, sort of blah lawns. The kids are on the side of the house, throwing the baby animals up, and they're in such sad shape, and I'm really angry - I mean to put a stop to this. One or two of the round-headed ones may be dead, I don't want to look at them, I'm scared. I snatch up a couple under each arm, the others do the same, and make for one of the kids. They're boys, maybe 10 or 12 years old. Cruel. Thoughtless. Mean. Nasty. I'm horrified and furious.