Iwanski hates it when I refer to him as “Daddy” (to one of our cats).
“I am not that cat’s Dad,” he says.
But that doesn’t stop me. I always tell the cats to “Go by your Daddy,” or “Ask Daddy to feed you.”
Recently, this has spilled over into my dreams.
One night, as I was sound asleep, I dreamed that our cat Autumn walked up to Iwanski, who was sitting in the recliner, and said, “Hi, Daddy!” in the cutest little kitten voice. (Yes, she spoke English words in a little kitten voice. Trust me, it was cute.)
When I woke up, I could have sworn it was real. I actually looked at Autumn, who was curled up at the foot of the bed, and said, “Autumn, can you say ‘Hi Daddy’?”
She just stared at me and yawned.
So much for that.
But I’m not the only one who’s had human-like dreams about Autumn. One night, Iwanski dreamed that Autumn was piloting a plane on which we were passengers. Apparently she was even wearing tiny pilots’ goggles.
Another time, Iwanski dreamed that his boss had hired Autumn to be an insurance claims analyst at his job. In the dream, she was sitting in a chair in a cubicle with a stack of files in front of her.
The thing is, between our two felines, Autumn seems to have more “human-like” qualities. She is spunky, tough, and alternately sweet and loving, and cranky/bitchy. I’m sure that if left alone in nature, Autumn could totally survive on her own. She is one tough cookie.
But as for Hattie, she is just a perpetual helpless kitten. She is terrified of pretty much everything (balloons and being taken outside of the apartment are her biggest fears), and her life is spent eating, lying around, and rolling around on the floor, whining for her “people” to pet her fat belly. (I like to refer to her as “Whine-stein.”) But she’s an extremely sweet cat. She’s just not as “human-like” as Autumn is. If left alone in nature, Hattie would probably run, terrified, up a tree, and would never be heard from again.
There’s no way that I’d ever let Hattie pilot my plane.
Autumn, maybe.
