Bear Dream

I just thought I'd tell you people about my odd dream that I just remembered having this morning. It was about my dog, Bear. My mom had this house on a sort of cliff, where we were surrounded by land on three sides, but the back of our house bordered a sort of abyss. Our garage was on the second floor, and not only was it on the second floor, it faced outward onto the abyss, which made no sense whatsoever. In this garage, we kept a few flying motorcycles similar to the hovering things that resemble motorcycles in the Star Wars trilogy (yes, I know I'm a nerd). So I suppose that it wasn't that stupid having the back of the garage face the abyss as long as we were equipped with flying vehicles. But anyways, we never used these motorcycles for one reason or another, so they were just gathering dust in the second floor of this ginormous house that seemed to be in the middle of nowhere, though the house itself was by no means rustic; it was a few floors high and the walls gleamed (I think that they were constructed of metal).
My mother, my father, and I were having lunch on the third floor, in a brightly-lit kitchen area over a glass table, when a rumbling noise from the floor below disrupted our conversation. Upon hurrying downstairs, I saw my Australian Shepard dog, Bear, attempting to mount a red motorcycle. He was nearly successful in driving out into the black abyss, and would have been had I not thrust myself over the cliff, clinging to the back of the motorcycle. My mother grabbed me around the waist, and with our combined strength, we were able to wrestle the motorcycle back into the garage and get Bear off of it.
This was about when I woke up.