In my dream, I am much younger than reality, in fact, about the same age as Michelle, and we are teenagers together. We are in the house on 20th Street where I used to live. My grandmother came in and told us that we need to take care of the old cats because we can’t let them suffer anymore. Michelle and I seem to know exactly what to do without discussion.
We go upstairs to my bedroom and open the closet door. There is nothing in the closet except for a cat hanging from the bar. It is dead. Michelle lifts it up slightly so that I can take the noose from around its neck. We laid it out on my bed and petted its long, very silky fur – it was more like a stuffed animal than a real cat. I didn’t recognize it, but it was a beautiful young cat. We are sad that it is dead.
My cat, Buffinstuff (a cat that was mine in childhood), came strolling into the room and began rubbing his head on my leg. I am delighted to see him even though he is much fatter and raggedy then he ever looked in real life. I realized that we are supposed to kill him because of his age and failing health. I’m horrified...I love this cat and can’t imagine hanging him. Michelle knows that I will not be able to execute my cat. She says, “I’ll do it.” I picked up Buffinstuff as Michelle walked over to the noose in the closet. She enlarged it and moved to put it around Buffinstuff’s neck. I said, “No, let’s take him to the vet. We’re not going to hang him.” I woke up.
