For the last two nights, I've remembered little of my dreams, except that they have been brooding and sad. In one, for example, I dreamt I was doing a terrible job of taking care of my baby. It's not hard to figure out which furry child that was actually about.



But this afternoon, with the window open to let in the warm October breeze, Kung Fu Panda and I took a nap. Our kitty, Luke, slept on the dog bed.

I got up to use the bathroom and ran into Una. She'd always liked to lie on the tile floor, bunching the rug up to make a pillow. At first, she seemed a little confused, but then I greeted her warmly. "I'm so glad to see you," I told her, and buried my face in her neck.

With the bouncy energy of a puppy, she bounded with me back into the bedroom, popped her front legs up on the small dresser, and gobbled down all the cat's food.

Then I woke up.

Moral:
Beloved pets never truly leave.