I went to relax on the couch for a few moments and before I knew it, thanks to what I term my “chill pill,” I fell asleep. I had this dream in the subesquent fifteen minute period.
Al DeLarge has a cat, by the name of Stanley. This cat is extremely large and at times incorrigible and difficult. In any case, I dreamed that I had the ability to read cats’ thoughts. I had just acquired two cats of my own, and so the cats sat down together and had a conversation about me. Stanley was very dismissive of the youngsters. He delivered a lecture which was something like this: “You little kittens,” he said, “You have no idea what it means to possess a human. You must comfort him and irritate him. You must wake him in the morning against his will and cuddle next to him at night, lulling him to sleep with your purr. A cat’s life is one of inherent contradictions; you must simultaneously love, hate, and care nothing about your human.”
He then proceeded to demonstrate the proper way of purring a human to sleep (on me). However I noticed that he had a few small scratches on his right foreleg, near the joint. I looked away and then back, and the scratches had changed to bald spots with peeling flaps of bloody skin. I looked away and back, and then the entire leg was a festering hunk of pustulent flesh and exposed bone. As I watched in horror, Stanley attempted to take a step forward, and this leg of his turned inward and snapped off just below the joint. However he made no noise and his mind was silent. I was frantically attempting to collect the chunks of skin and bone to rush him to an animal hospital just as I awoke.