Kicking gators

In the middle of Sunday night, I woke myself up kicking an alligator.

This particular gator was a feisty one, large, with snapping jaws and a bad attitude.

I was kicking him in the head so he would turn toward my partner, who would shoot him and pull him up a boat ramp.

In the background, a narrator intoned: “He might lose a leg if he’s not careful.”

I am not sure why I - a fifth generation Okie from the blackjacks of Pontotoc County - would dream I was a Cajun hunting alligators, but hey. It was a vivid dream.

It was so real, I not only woke myself, but also Monroe, who was asleep on the floor by the bed.

Monroe has many times roused me by yipping and free-wheeling her legs in pursuit of a dream rabbit, so I considered it turn-about.

My only wide-awake experience with alligators came one Labor Day at Fort Polk, La.

My company was assigned to odds-and-ends duty around the base to help ensure the holiday was safe and happy for all.

A fellow private and I drew a good gig - driving a boat around a small lake to pick up logs and debris and to help out any paddleboaters who found themselves in distress.

The lake had a lot of logs, but, oddly, most of them would lose buoyancy and sink when the boat neared.

This happened maybe a dozen times before we noticed that one of the logs had eyes.

It was then that we realized they were alligators.

My first thought was: I don’t believe I’d want to go noodling in this lake.

My second thought was: I wonder if the paddle-boaters know about the alligators.

No pets or people were eaten that day, for which I and my associate gave great thanks, and I haven’t seen another alligator since.

Until Sunday night.

I truly have no clue about the origins of that dream, but it was invigorating.

Going a couple of rounds with an alligator, if only a dream one, struck some kind of deep primal chord.

When I finally woke up for good, I got out of bed with a little more of what passes these days for a spring in my step.

And I felt a little extra energy.

So, if there is a moral to this story, it is: when things starts to stagnate, find whatever passes for an alligator in your life and give it a few good kicks.

Just don’t lose a leg.