plato caligula lucifersam apollo

Wednesday, March 04, 2009

DREAM About Pets

I had insomnia last night. I don't know why. When Stan got up to go to work was when I was in the deepest sleep, which is usually when I wake up (before I go back to sleep again). Sometimes in the morning when Apollo is accessible, Stan will bring him into the bedroom before he leaves and put him next to my face. I felt him do that this morning, but I couldn't pet Apollo this time. All I cold do is moan, as I was in that paralyzed deep sleep phase.

Shortly before I got up, I had a dream that I was looking at pastel colored tank tops and white shorts...clothes I do not own. The tank tops were the color of sherbet, one orange, one lime, very pale. They were pretty, but I've decided to stick with dark colors. Then in the dream I hear this crying, like a child or possibly an animal. I go outside trying to locate the sound. Right outside my back door is a black cat trying to get into the house. We do not, and never did, have an all black cat. Then I see another all black cat in the neighbors yard, not the neighbors whose all black cat passed away a few years ago, but the other neighbors...the house that exchanges hands frequently. TTBOMK, that house has not had a black cat as long as I've lived here.

I notice that the garage (our storage shed...too small for a modern-day car) door is open, and I find that odd. I look inside it and see what looks like our oldest cat, Caligula, in there, surrounded by other cats, mrrrowing, trying to defend himself. In my dream mind, I think it is Vladimir, the cat we lost over 10 years ago. Both cats are/were grey tabbies, except Caligula has white bib, boots and mittens, but Vladimir didn't. I pick the cat up, who then mutates into my Boston, Plato. I try to get back inside the house without the other mystery black neighborhood cats getting inside. I think it odd that he was cowering in the garage, surrounded by a bunch of cats, meowing like a cat. I put him down on the floor and then he immediately heads downstairs to the basement. IRL, our dogs never go to the basement on their own, despite the fact that is the where the motherlode of literpan treats are. I think they're freaked out by the basement stairs, as am I (I walk down our basement steps like an old lady...if you saw it, you'd know what I mean.) We only take them down there during a tornado warning.

:::right now as I'm typing this, Dr. Donna called to tell us Plato's test results ruled out Cushings Disease, but further tests should be done eventually to determine if his liver protein numbers are getting higher and maybe put him on a liver supplement. Weird that just happened right as I was writing about Plato:::

So Plato's heading down to the basement and I realize I need to put shoes on to go down there after him, so I head back to the bedroom to get shoes, which is where I wake up.

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1 Comments:

Blogger Stan said...

It is a good thing the dogs are afraid to go into the basement or they would be eating out of the liter pans every day. It helps to have a creepy basement in that respect.

If there were cats in the garage they would at least find mice to eat.

6:58 PM  

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