The Hairdresser, the Zombies and the Talking Squirrel

Okay, so this dream was *unusual* even for me.
I was at house I used to live in. It had a chain link fence around the backyard, and I was doing gardening work beside it. A friend of mine who teaches pilates was next door gardening on the far side of her yard, along with Angus, her bald, gay, Scottish hairdresser. He says hello, and I pretend not to hear hoping he won't come over. He does, though.
He comments on the up-keep of the front yard. I demure, telling him it's all the work of the zombies I control. I try to call them over, but they've all gone away.
There's a buzzy little voice in one of the old pin oak trees that explains that to us. I tell Angus that is my talking squirrel, who has no name, but whom I'm thinking of calling Cindy.

Rather thankfully, this is the time when I woke up.
I'm scared to know what it means.

Brief note while I DIE of hysterical laughter

Unheralded by me -- which is a shame, really, as it really is my duty to render prayer, praise and thanksgiving unto Llew at all times and places* -- the Links at the remote bottom of this page (where nobody, I expect, goes) have been moved up to the side where they are officially visible. This was done via the expertise of Miss Laura (not Ms).
A few links were also added, like the Sinister one (which may not work) and one for Maddie Minx.
Now, as I have been tarting around #sinister in many senses of the word, I haven't been nosing around other blogs as much. But I mosied over to Maddie's just now to visit and saw she had reciprocated linkage.
Now -- at last -- the funny bit.
All the people there get interesting titles (i. e.: the TEMPTRESS or the HISTORIAN or the ARCHAEOLOGIST).
Me: I'm the OTHER**.

Ha, ha, ha!
It's so right, it's hysterical.

*This is a joke off of Luther's Explanation of the First Commandment, as written in his Small Catechism, memorized by me in 1988 or 1989, and apparently never replaced by anything more pertinent.

** Please see this