New Pet

I had a dream the other night that I got a pet giraffe, only it was smaller than a real giraffe - it was like a Great Dane with a giraffe neck. I brought her home and she galloped through my house breaking things. I thought that it is a good thing I'm young and capable because she'd be hard to control otherwise. Then right after thinking that, my right hand fell off at the wrist, leaving an open wound and everything. 

I ended up getting a "hand transplant," although the first one didn't take (graft vs. host, I guess) but the second one resulted in a rather unresponsive hand being attached to my wrist. I couldn't do very much with it as far as fine motor skills, and for the rest of the dream I was extremely paranoid that if I over-exerted myself, the donor hand would tear off. 

While my giraffe was outside on the dock (no idea why there was a dock) there was a Halloween rave with black lights and glow sticks going on inside the building that I was in, which was now looking like it was the student center of a university. I was trying to find somebody, and was navigating the dark and wild rave with my transplanted hand tucked in my hoodie pocket. I finally found a hallway that had the fluorescent lights on, and was walking down it when I had to circumnavigate a posse of what turned out to be bodyguards, because for some reason Justin Beiber was standing there in the hallway in a really shiny metallic purple jacket. (He was a little bit Michael Jackson, too.) I was just going to continue walking because Justin Beiber had not been who I was looking for, but he stuck out his hand in greeting - presumably for a handshake - and I found myself in the awkward situation of either refusing his handshake or offering my left hand and then having to explain myself, both of which involved me spending more time than I had intended in the lighted hallway. I ended up offering my left hand, and he switched hands and said, "You're a lefty?" 

Which I am, so I said yes, but then explained that that's not why I don't shake hands with my right hand and pulled the sleeve of my hoodie up to expose the gnarly-looking scar tissue that went all the way around my right wrist where the donor hand and my arm (which were slightly different skin colors) had been connected. Justin Beiber nodded understandingly, as if hand transplants were fairly common and he recognized one by sight. Then I put my hand back in my pocket and left. 

When I got home (never having successfully found whatever I was looking for) there was the director of a dog rescue at my house with two dogs - a brown dog with a healing leg fracture and a white pit bull who had a pink nose and pink eyes. The pit bull was young and looked to be about as rowdy as the giraffe that I already had, but I said I would foster the two dogs even though I didn't think I could handle them all with only one functional hand. Luckily, when I brought my giraffe inside, she and the white pit bull instantly hit it off and went bounding around the house together, breaking things but ultimately keeping each other entertained while I sat on the dock with the brown dog, watching them tiredly.