A Rude Awakening

Just before I awoke this morning I was having this weird dream in which I was holding one of my cats, Rudy, and he was covered in garapatas (ticks) and half the fur on his back was missing. I was out at some big mall, located at the top of a very large concrete skateboard park which ran down a big hill, and I found Rudy wandering by and decided that he needed to come home and get healed before I would let him out again. [In real life we have trouble keeping Rudy in the house, he’s always escaping.]

As I’m walking, cradling Rudy in my arms, back to my car I pass some people who are making a movie. They are almost done filming and need only to shoot the last scene. The main characters are 3 assassins or maybe they are terrorists. They’ve been killing specific people for the good of some “cause” which is not clear to me.

In the final scene the target they need to kill is one of their own, the only woman on their little team. The woman is standing in front of a concrete wall by herself. They trick the her into holding two items in her hands which help to guide an incoming missile. Then they blow her head off with the missile, and without moving the camera position they immediately roll the credits right in the blood stain on the wall. It was cinematically perfect, and horrific. And now I know for a fact that I dream in color because the wall was an ochre/yellow color and the blood was bloody.

I’m sure you all think I’m nuts for dreaming this. Normally I don’t remember my dreams and when I do they are boring, even to me. But once in a while I dream about movies being made and those are always my most interesting and vivid dreams. I think that I’m so practical that even in my dreams extraordinary things only happen in the movies.

But the real reason I wanted to blog this morning was not to tell you about my sicko dream, it was to tell you how I got woken up.

I was lying on my right side, with my head on the edge of my pillow. Another of my cats, named Ariel (after Shakespeare’s character in the Tempest), was lying ON my pillow with me. She had her spine up against the back of my head. Then she started scratching her neck with her hind leg; with her spine still pressing up against my head. So every time she scratched herself she bumped up against my head. I woke up with someone bonking me on the back of the head! Maybe THAT’S why I remembered my dream!? Now I know the secret.

Oh and by the way I DO know that Shakespeare’s Ariel was male, but my Ariel is female. When I got Ariel from the Humane Society her name was Oreo, and I couldn’t handle having a cat with such an undignified name. But I didn’t want to change the sound of her name too much, lest I confuse her. Ariel worked as a name, it was similar-sounding enough to Oreo, and it fit her flightly and devilish personality.

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