I felt like a baby being coaxed, reluctantly, into dreamland. A few yards away, Jack was already there. His legs jerked helplessly, making him look vulnerable.
"What's Jack dreaming about?"
"Chasing rabbits," Loyd said.
"That's what everybody says, but I don't think all dogs dream about that. You watch a city dog that's never even heard of a rabbit—it'll do the same thing."
"How do you know they really dream?"
"They do. All mammals that have been tested have REM sleep, except spiny anteaters." [...]
Loyd asked, "What do you think animals dream about?"
"I don't know. Animal Heaven." I laughed.
"I think they dream about whatever they do when they're awake. Jack chases rabbits, and city dogs chase, I don't know what. Meter readers."
"But that's kind of sad. Couldn't a dog have an imagination, like a person?"
"It's the same with people. There's nothing sad about it. God, when I used to work for Tia sorting the pecans I'd go to sleep and dream about pecans, pecans, pecans." (12.140-155)