When dreams come true

Well over twenty years ago when I started visiting my inlaws in The Basin, I recall having a strange dream. In it I heard my father-in-law and my mother-in-law discussing a cat. I’m near-deathly allergic to cats and there had been some discussion about putting the cat out when I came to stay (which is funny, really, because I’m not so much allergic to cats as to their dander, and their dander is on everything and remains long after one puts the cat out). In my dream I heard my mother-in-law tell my father-in-law that it when it came down to who got to stay it was simple:

Me.

Or the cat.

And my father-in-law replied,

“The cat.”

We all laughed about it then. And for years there was no cat inside the house. And I totally forgot about my silly dream.

Until I was so sick yesterday from the “new” cat. I’m not sure when this one showed up or from where. I just know it had been injured and the vet told my father-in-law to simply say goodbye. And the vet was wrong because the cat and it’s highly potent dander is just fine.

After I came home last night and washed any traces of dander out of my hair and from my skin and put on some clean pajamas and came to love breathing all over again I remembered the dream.

And my father-in-law’s response.

“The cat.”

Disclaimer: The above post, while true, is written complete tongue in cheek. Of course my inlaws are welcome to keep a cat if they want one. I have cats. And sometimes they sneak in. And if you gave some of my kids a choice (me or the cat), they might very well choose the cat as well. It’s all good. I just got a good giggle when I remembered my dream from forever ago. Now, if you want to know how I really feel–all kidding aside–hop on over to Segullah, where I waxed a little serious today.