Disclaimer: I don't believe in dreams. I don't think that because my cat told me in my dream that his name is not Tate, it is actually Hippopotomolopoly and that is what I need to call him ( I dreamt that two nights ago), means that I have a spiritual connection with my cat. A dream about thunderstorms doesn't mean that the moons of Jupiter have suddenly aligned and are creating a shift in Scorpio's influence and I will find my true love this week. To me, dreams are merely my brain sorting out what is important to keep and what I can put in the trash bin. I am writing a blog about dreams simply for the fact that I have wildly vivid dreams. Nearly every night I remember three or four dreams, and they are often hilarious. I have been told that this is somewhat miraculous (but not in the crazy psychic way) and that I should share it with more people.
Occasionally, my dreams are not miraculous or funny in any way; this is where the crazy cat stories come along. Three years ago I found an adorable baby kitten stuck in a tree. I saved his life and brought him home, and he has shown his appreciation through constant entertainment. I do realize that hearing about someone else's cat chasing his tale and meowing along with you while you sing doesn't make the most thrilling of tales, so I will only tell of Tate's truly odd behavior. Such as...the other day I was suffering from a cold and trying to peacefully enjoy my cup of orange juice on the couch. Tate is a definite cat, and doesn't care about how I feel. We had a fight over the orange juice and I tried to position my fingers over the glass so that he wouldn't be able to fit a paw in. He won as usual. I rationalized allowing my cats foot to be immersed in orange juice so that he would taste it, hate it, and leave me alone. Of course that is definitely NOT what happened. My very large fluffy gray cat indeed loves orange juice. I tried to keep fighting him, but got tired and poured in down the drain. Well at least one of us got our daily serving of Vitamin C.