I imagined I was floating on an orange cloud surrounded by peacocks inviting me to dine on a banquet fit for a feline goddess. I was accompanied by the sounds of tin openers being applied on endless rows of tuna fish cans, each full to the brim with a wondeful sauce. There were gardens full of catnip and I was playing amongst the leaves, rising higher and higher to another dimension. The many lives of a feline are wonderful, one better than the other. Only yesterday my statue was carved from pink ivory wood and rubies were placed in it for my eyes. I was worshipped as a god, surrounded by kings in the old country. They are bringing me bowls filled with peacock tongues (for something the peacocks are there) garnished with chopped butterfly. They are bowing towards my statue and then they look at me with tears in their eyes.
Just a minute, what are you doing, put me down. I don’t care if your pharoah has died, I am still alive. I have to accompany him on his journey to the next world? No, I do not want to be stuffed, like some sort of chicken, I want to live. I do not want to become mummified – put down that paring knife.
“Tabby what are you meowing about so loudly.”
“Nothing Mrs. Human, just having one of those meowmares that reoccur now and again. What for dinner?”
“Some wonderful tuna flavoured vitamin pellets.”
“No lark’s tongues or mouse liver.”
“No Tabby, they do not do that flavour.”
“Ok, I am coming.”
Who needs dreams, they always have a bad ending. Meow. Even vitamin pellets are better.