The dark horse

Another odd dream…  The female lead in my dream was a sinewy, lithe young woman with olive skin and long, raven-black hair (incidentally nothing like my fair, chubby, cute self).  The dream took place in the most glorious of landscapes; green, fleshy land, hilly, and in the constant shadow of heavy, dark clouds.  A horse and a farmer had turned up on this girl’s land, apparently from New Orleans.  The last thing I remember about the farmer’s presence in the dream is an image of him, face down in grass and dirt.  He never appeared again.  The striking, mahogany colored horse became the focal point of the dream.  The horse had drunk contaminated flood water in the south and the girl needed to get rid of the creature swiftly and inconspicuously.   I have a vivid memory of her riding the horse bareback across the countryside, perhaps attempting to ride him all the way to Louisiana.  Her plan was stymied by obstacles I can’t recall, so she took the horse to slaughter, pretending that horse was her own and needed to be put down.  She returned to her own farm where the horse and farmer had originally appeared.  At this point, a second female character enters.  Apparently she is privy to information about the horse that is unbeknown to our femme fatale.  She explains in a dramatic monologue that went something like, “Don’t you see??  This horse is from Morgan County, not New Orleans.  I sent the horse to Louisiana so know one would find out but they’ve already discovered twenty cases of contamination here!  Now that the horse has been slaughtered, the water and meat supplies will be completely contaminated!!!”  

Then I woke up.  

My diagnosis of this brain trash is as follows:  
The beautiful setting was quite Ireland-like.  Most of my dreams take place in Ireland, some even specifically in my childhood home and neighborhood.  This place reminds me of a particular area in the Morne Mountains called The Windy Gap.  It’s literally a gap in the hills where the wind constantly howls.  
I watched The Untouchables last weekend.  During the scene at the Canadian border I noticed that Kevin Costner’s horse was considerably darker in color that the other dozen or so horses in the shot.  I wondered if the director was making some kind of statement.  So I think that’s the source of my dark horse.  
We watched Monsters, Inc. last night.  If you’ve seen it, you know that Mike and Sully spend most of the movie trying to get rid of the kid without being caught with her, thus my character’s desperate need to get rid of the horse.  
Obviously, the subject matter is likely attributed to what the media calls ‘Disaster Fatigue.’  I like to think I’ve just spent a fair amount of time being empathetic towards my fellow man.  

Incidentally, I don’t live in or near Morgan County.  In fact, I’m not sure where Morgan County is.  Ooo, I just ended a sentence with a preposition.  That reminds me of something funny I read on dooce.com.  It’s priceless.  Here it is…

The love between a husband and wife
TUESDAY, 20 SEPTEMBER 2005
“It’s really hot out here.”
“Then why do you have jeans on?”
“Why are you ending sentences with prepositions?”
“Why do you have jeans on, motherfucker?”