The other night, I dreamt I was taking my childhood dog for a walk on the moors above my house. I had just let her off the lead, when I spotted a tiger crouching in the long grass behind a dry stone wall. The tiger was clearly about to attack the unsuspecting spaniel.
Without any thought for my own safety, I ran up to the wall and began hurling stones from it at the tiger. The tiger snarled and growled for a while, but eventually ran off.
In my dreams, I'm one badass mother who don't take no shit from tigers.