I don’t think “puppy dreams” are cute. You know when your dog is “running” or “growling” in its sleep. People stop and “ooh” like it’s a baby who is just starting to smile and coo.

The baby is cute. But that dog is in hell.

There’s no way my anxious little chihuahua-mix is “enjoying” the dream. I’ll bet she thinks the neighborhood cats have formed a union and started hunting little dogs in “cat packs.”

Carol Baskins is kicking and growling to escape the gangs of claws and gnashing teeth that are free-wheeling around her subconscious like scary-quick zombies that can climb trees and hunt little doggie for their brains.

She doesn’t have opposable thumbs. She can’t fire a shotgun, or crush their skulls with a baseball bat. Lying there between two giant humans on our king-sized, pillow-top bed all Carol can do is run and cry for help.

“oohhh she’s dreaming,” the wife said, as the dog’s hips twitched and her lips curled. Her growls became cries and reached a higher and higher pitch.

I put a reassuring hand on the dog’s back in my humble attempt to end this nightmare.

“Don’t wake her… she’s having fun.”

“She’s running for her life,” I said. “This dog already shivers when she’s awake — she doesn’t need to be scared shitless at night.”

“You have never once put a reassuring hand on my back,” the wife said.

That’s not true. About 35 years ago, when she had to give a speech during her niece’s baptism and got nervous, I reached over the pew to touch her back.

But I said nothing. If you have to go back 35 years to find one example, you’re fucked. Comparing acts of kindness between this little dog and the wife over the past 4 years will not end well for me. And we both know it.

“You know your relationship with that dog is a little weird,” the mother-of-my-child said.

Not all nightmares

I’m not saying every dog has night terrors. Maybe there are golden retrievers out there dreaming of chasing tennis balls into perfectly clear, cool lakes on a hot summer day. Maybe there are basset hounds picturing themselves as long-legged greyhounds and running tracks after fake rabbits. Maybe there are pit bulls imagining themselves dancing in a field of sun flowers… Maybe.

But based on a dog’s personality, I think we can guess at their dreams and nightmares.

My son’s dog, the mini-doberman, Susan. Loves people. She will cuddle and nap with anyone. Give her a treat, and she will follow you like a homeless man or a desperate woman.

But walk her down the street, and she will try to fight any dog that is too aggressive or too timid.

She has bitten other chihuahuas. Last month on vacation in California, this 15-pound dog charged an 80-pound pit bull. I don’t know if dogs can laugh, but I think that pit bull would have giggled right before it crushed Susan like the annoying little nat she can be.

I firmly believe dogs learn behavior from each other. Carol never scratched at the ground to throw dirt around after she took a shit, until we walked her with Susan. Susan can easily bury any pile of crap in sand, or grass or landscape rocks. Carol just ends up “jumping forward” and barely moving any earth.

Same with naps. Susan dreams during almost every nap her entire life. Carol just started these nightmares recently — after spending 4 days with Susan at Hermosa Beach.

While Carol’s imagining cat packs and running like prey, I guarantee, Susan is dreaming of the fight. Chasing German Shepherds down the road with their tails tucked between their legs. Leaping in the air and going for the throats of Irish Wolfhounds, and making Pit Bulls cower in her presence.

Do I know for sure any of this is true? Absolutely not.

But even if this is another of my fucked up unscientific theories, I’m not going to smile and coo at my dog’s nightmare… Do they have PTSD therapy for dogs?