Dream World

Does real life ever infiltrate your dreams?
That happened to me last night.
My husband came home some time in the middle of the night after working until 1 a.m. He unloaded the dishwasher and made the boys' lunches. Then he knocked into the office chair as he came into the bedroom with some folded laundry. (I know, overachiever.)
I woke up and thought how thirsty I was. But I was too tired to get up and get a drink of water. I could have asked Earl to get it, but he had already done so much.
He also fed the cats (at 3 in the morning?) but maybe that would keep them from bugging us in the morning. He climbed into bed and a few minutes later I heard the older cat throwing up.
"He's throwing up," I said and pushed the covers back.
"I'll get it,"my prince of an Earl said. And he did. He cleaned it up and talked to the cat for a few minutes before coming back to bed.
Then I slept. In my dream, we were visiting someone else's house, someone with a lot of cats. I went to open the front door and cats were coming in and going out.
My cat, Tybalt, was there.

Why would we take our cats to visit someone?
Tybalt is an indoor cat but he snuck out so I had to grab him and bring him back in.
Then I opened the door again to let more cats in and Tybalt jumped and hit the other cat in midair. Wham! The impact took them several feet out into the yard. They wrestled together in the snow. It was like a cartoon cat fight!
The next thing I knew, I was standing in the kitchen of this strange house drinking water from a big plastic pitcher. That's how my thirst infiltrated my dreams -- a pitcherful of water.
Then my alarm sounded at 5:10 a.m. and I pressed it off. I needed to get up and write and exercise. I have to work today at 9.
The next thing I heard was Tucker's alarm going off. 7 a.m.
So much for good intentions.

Dark Adventures

Something about the dark morning when it rains must beckon me, because I had decided not to run in the rain this morning, yet I got to have an outside adventure anyway.
It all started when I opened the screen door to fetch the morning paper. I grabbed the plastic-encased Columbus Dispatch and turned back inside. Just as the door was closing, the wiry body of our 5-year-old cat Tupi slipped through. Okay, maybe Tupi isn't wiry. He's pretty chunky, but I couldn't figure out how he got through that door. He looked fairly sleek as he was escaping.
Perhaps it was the memory of this Halloween costume last year that inspired him to make a run for it.
I was wearing warm up pants, a fleece and a pair of socks as I started after him. I called him in an exasperated voice: "Tupi!" as I followed him down the stairs covered with leaves and long skinny seed pods from the trees above. I felt them bumpy through my socks which grew soaked on the wet concrete.
Only a few steps behind him, I felt sure I'd catch him. He usually stopped once he reached the sidewalk. And he did slow down. I could almost grab him when a matching tuxedo cat stuck his head from around the stone wall in front of our house.
Tupi stopped then and crouched.
I looked at the other cat. He was black and white and resembled our other cat so much, I wondered if it could be him. I also hoped I never got confused and caught the wrong cat.
I put a hand on Tupi's back and started to pick him up when he lunged and chased the other cat through the grass up a hill to our neighbor's house.
Sigh.
I turned around to fetch shoes. I could feel the rain soaking through my hair and transforming the sleek straightness to gloppy curls. My running shoes stood ready in the hallway. They mocked me: "Thought you didn't need us today."
"What's wrong, Mom?" Tucker called sleepily.
"Tupi escaped and is chasing another cat," I told him.
I walked out the back door, thinking he might have chased the other cat back into the alley. Tucker in shorts and a tshirt, went out the front door. I made my way through the alley and met Tucker on the sidewalk.
No luck.
The rain continued to drip from the sky, just enough to make us miserable.
"Go put some shoes on," I told Tucker.
I called Tupi's name, disturbing the quiet of the neighborhood. The kids were off school today so the whole town was having a lie in.
Sauntering up the street toward me came my husband in a black rain jacket. He had pulled himself from the warmth of our bed to search for the cat.
We called together and a neighborhood stray came running to greet us.
"Not you, Mew," I said.
We climbed the hill by our neighbor's house and called some more. They're on vacation so we didn't wake them.
"He'll come back," Earl said and we turned to go.
Then I heard a "Miaaaoo" from the other neighbor's house.
"Tupi," we called again.
After another "miaaaoo" he crawled from behind a planter.
I went to him and leaned over to grab him, looking to see that he had a white tip at the end of his tail.
"Make sure that's him," Earl warned.
"It is," I said as Grace climbed up the hill beside us in a hoodie sweatshirt and pj pants. I handed the cat over to her. She's our quasi-veterinarian and she would be sure he was the right cat and that he had no wounds from his cat fight. Tucker joined us as we got to the sidewalk, his feet a little warmed in his Converse shoes.
I suggested we all walk down for coffee in the rain (okay, so I'm a morning person), everyone else went back to bed while our little cat followed Tupi around sniffing and waiting to hear about his adventure.