Dream Diary - On Recycling

I sleep like the dead. I seriously do.  Put me horizontal and I'm out. I also dream.  A lot.  Thankfully (I think), I also often remember my dreams. For a few hours, anyway.

And now, lucky folks, I've decided to share the ones that are really fun, before their thread releases their hold on my mind.  I'm also including a moral, because I'm a fan of 80s cartoons and believe any storyline is enhanced by a (sometimes not-so-obvious) moral lesson.

Last Night's Dream

I'm in bed, and I wake up.  My fluffy kitten, Pamplo, is now a brown tabby. An ugly brown tabby (and tabbies are my fave, so it was really ugly for me to say that. Dream that. Whatever.)

I call Roomy.

She looks at Pamplo and nods wisely.

Roomy: "You know what happened, right?"

Me: "The neighbours thought Pamplo was cute and swapped him out for this ugly cat?" 

Roomy: "No.  It's environmental conditions."

Then I was sad that my cat was going to stay ugly and I couldn't go all vigilante justice.

...that's it. That whole dream. So, if your cute cat turns ugly, it's environmental conditions, people.

Moral of the Dream
Recycle. And blame your neighbours for the incomprehensible in your life.

Pamplo, on the burden of cuteness.