A couple of nights ago I dreamed Phurball came back. Not like zombie-cat back from the dead, but that somehow he’d just gone missing and turned up again. I was downstairs and someone called down, “Oh, your cat is back!”
“I don’t have a cat,” I said, coming up the stairs, but there was a cat. At first I didn’t know who he was, but then he meowed and I recognized his voice. And much cuddling ensued.
Some dreams really don’t need a shrink to interpret them, ya know?