The next night I dreamt that Rocky was playing next to me when all of the sudden his paw fell off. There was no blood and he didn't look in pain, but I was beside myself. I was crying to Brandon about how terrible it is that all of our cats die (even though the cat wasn't dead and, in reality, only one of our cats have died). I woke up and called for Brandon. I asked him to hold Rocky up for me so I could make sure all of his paws were intact. They were.
I'm pretty sure why I had these dreams. Chico, our other cat, goes outside in the morning and it really upsets Rocky. He gets all needy and in my face - "Love me! Pet me! Where's Chico? When is he coming back? Are you going to check on him? I need a hug. I need Chico. Where is he? When is he coming back?" All of this, of course, is in the form of "meow, meow, meowmeow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meowmeow, meowmeow, meow..." either outside my door or two inches from my face. I'm sure the dreams are also reflective of feeling like 'protector mommy' and knowing that the end is near and I'm going to have a baby soon. Hopefully, a human baby. With her hands attached.
My dreams last night weren't nearly as interesting. It was mostly just a recap of last night's Lost and my analysis of everything that happened. Did you watch? It was awesome.
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