I recently had the worst nightmare ever. The reason why I'm even bothering to write about this is because... usually... I'm the nightmare someone else is writing about in their diary.
It all began after I'd enjoyed a particularly nice afternoon. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping... Opie hit a new decibel screaming cuz I'd dared to look at him. Seriously, the Ginger Wuss doesn't need anything more from me than a side glance to get his tiny tail all knotted with stress... which I actually take as a compliment. His hissy fit came on the heels of Dori complaining to Mom that she didn't appreciate me putting the bitey on her neck without first asking.
First asking?!? Wouldn't that take the fun out of hunting her? In the jungle, lions don't submit a request to antelope to inquire about a good time to hunt them. NO! They drop onto their backs from a tree, and ... well... dinner is served.
So, Mom was already fed up with me from my morning activities. That's why she put me in my prison jams, and sent me to my room to *makes paw quotes* think about what I'd done. Pffft! I didn't have to think about it. That's what I love about being me:
I don't think. I just do.
Once settled in my ZenDen, I quickly fell asleep. By not being a slave to my conscience, I always sleep pretty darn deep.
I dreamed the Ginger Wuss had lost his voice. All he could do was open his mouth with silent screams when I looked at him. I immediately lost interest. Without sound effects, bugging Opie just wasn't any fun.
I flipped over.
Next, I dreamed Dori grew wings! But she couldn't fly, and when I jumped onto her back and put the bitey on her neck, she tasted just like chimken. Now this is the kind of dream I enjoy. However, no sooner did I bite her neck, than she grew a beak and started pecking at me. She pecked at my throat, and pecked at my face. I got so freaked, I quickly turned tail, but she came running at me with her wings flapping, making this weird kind of clucking noise. I sure didn't like that dream at all.
Then I had a dream that started out nice. I saw my Dadders waving fuzzy pink on a string, a game I enjoy playing. But then...
Then... I didn't see me swatting at fuzzy pink on a string. No! I saw that gravel-voiced semi-feral Garage Band dude known as Chevy. He was out on the Catio playing swat the fuzzy pink on a string game with MY DADDERS.