I am in a strange motel. The walls are made of thick rich wood, with deep, oblong & organic looking holes carved into them for people to sleep in. I think the floors are made of stone. I am there with immediate family: my mother, my sister, & my stepfather. We’re just lounging, spread out on the white fur couches & rugs of the biggest room. Next to that room is a kitchen, & beyond that a smaller room where I mistakenly assume my parents will be sleeping.

Then, hello, a panther appears, mildly threatening. It is apparently my stepfather’s panther—some sort of pet. He explains that he’ll have to subdue the animal in order to get it into the other room, so the rest of us can go to sleep free from the danger of midnight panther attacks. Then he wrestles the panther. He tries for some sort of sleeper hold, but the panther is too quick; too strong. The battle goes back & forth for some time, around the room, across the floor. For a few seconds the panther is on its hindquarters & they are both upright, leaning into each other like tired boxers. Eventually my stepfather is triumphant—he gets hold of the animal’s collar & pulls tight, too tight, all but cutting off the panther’s breath & nearly killing it. It is beyond restrained. Now my stepfather leaves the room.

Then, lying limp on the floor, the panther dreammorphs into the old family dog; a small white terrier-poodle named Lady. So now it’s the dog lying on the floor with her collar too tight. My sister & I can her breath rasping & wheezing & choking. My sister gets angry that this has been allowed to happen. I go to the dog & loosen the collar very carefully, because even though she has physically changed into a 20-pound terrier-poodle, there is still a sense of unpredictability & feral danger, as though I were still dealing with a panther. I remove the collar slowly & whisper “Sshh” into her ear, smoothing her fur, until she is calm enough for me to pick up in my arms. I take her out of the room & into the kitchen where I find my stepfather. I show him that I’ve subdued the dog without using violence. He is indifferent. I put the dog to bed in the small room adjoining the kitchen.

When I go back into the main room, I see the naked body of a woman kneeling inside one of the wooden bunk-holes in the wall, but her head is hidden in the overhead space. I wonder whose body it is, noting that it possesses the subtle wrinkles & sags of a middleaged woman. Then I recognize the tattoos, & realize that I am looking at my sister. I look away. I am not really bothered by the fact that I’ve just seen my sister naked; it’s just a body, after all. What I feel instead is this sudden realization that my sister & I have reached full adulthood. She is no longer the cool older friend who gave me cigarettes when we were teenagers, or a young woman choosing between boyfriend candidates. She has the body of a middle aged woman because she IS middle aged, more or less, & I am only 3 years younger. It’s a revelation triggered by my walking in on her: my own midlife is near.