Saturday Morning

[monk222]

There were a few small dreams last night, which I could have kept if I cared enough about them to jot down a few notes at the time. However, there is one that stuck to my memory. The weather is looking iffy. I have the cats indoors, but Pop decides to step out back and he lets one of the cats go, one of the grey ones. I moan and waste my breath in lamentation, but Pop only smirks in self-satisfaction over my grief. When I walk back to the living room, I see what looks like the two grey cats, Ash and Sammy. How can that be? One of them surely just went outside. Upon closer inspection, I see that it is a different cat. It is kind of pretty, being predominantly white, though it has a few dark stripes running along each side of it. When I get down on the floor to look more closely at this zebra-ish cat, I cautiously move to pet it, and although I do not succeed, I get the distinct impression that this is a socialized cat.

Trying to discern some meaning, or the source, for this dream, the one thing that comes to mind is that I do suffer some anxiety at night when I let the cats in the house to get some food, because I often do not feel very confident, in the darkness, that the little animal that wants to come inside is one of my cats. Aside from possibly being a stray cat, for all I know, it could be a possum, or even a raccoon. I mainly put my trust in the idea that a wild animal would be too shy and risk-averse to come to the door and face me like that.