Weird thing this morning... and kind of sad.
I was in that misty twilight of not-really-asleep-but-not-particularly-awake-either, just beginning to gain some cognizance of what day it was, and that I had to get up for work, and that the alarm was going to go off in about four minutes. Through the fog, a repetitious sound penetrated my still-addled brain. It was a cat meowing.
I have mentioned here before that Fat Kitty Frank shuffled off the feline coil in June, after having spent fifteen years with me as VP of Purring & Napping. There was also a cat that lived downstairs that drove me nuts just after Frank died, as it would meow all the time and make me miss her all the more. That cat (and, presumably, its family) moved out a couple of months ago. Since then, this little section of the apartment complex has been quadruped-free. So, a meowing cat, while not particularly noteworthy in the grand scheme of the universe, is no longer something I hear or attend to every day.
So here's the crazy part. In that still-dreaming-but-not-entirely state, I somehow managed to convince myself that I had left Frank in the care of someone else whilst
I went trotting off to Europe. As is often the case with dreams, I can't remember now if the person in question was someone I actually know, or that nameless, faceless, somnolent "them." But known to me or not, I was absolutely certain that I had overlooked going to fetch my dear kitty, this shameless, ruthless person was now keeping her and not intending to let me have her back, and I needed to get up, drive over there like I was out on the autobahn, and retrieve the beloved which was rightfully mine.
Hell of a reality to wake up to, once I finally got there...
