Trudy Andrew | Canadian Author

Cat Tails

Dreaming Black and White

Our little, Pudgie the cat loves the indoor life. It’s funny how an outdoor, barn cat can turn into such a princess. She was the ultimate huntress for years, yet quite willingly gave it all up, to move into the house. We didn’t have much choice in the matter. The poor kitty was being tormented by one of the ‘dump offs’ the girlchild had saved. Funny thing, how a new cat can oust one that’s lived on the farm for so many years, and do it so easily. Though Pudgie has no inclination to go outside, especially in the winter, I do wonder if she misses exploring and hunting. She was what is called, a phenomenal mouser.
I doubt if there’s anyone who hasn’t seen a dog doing what’s called ‘chasing rabbits’ while they sleep. The legs will go, the dog might whimper and whine in the excitement of the chase, and it’s hilarious to watch. What I don’t know is this. How many people have seen a cat chasing something in its dreams? I ask, because this is what Pudgie did. She was soundly sleeping in her favourite spot, in front of the radiant space heater, soaking up the warmth. The tough, little outside cat, has turned into a chubby wuss. There’s nothing to hunt but toys and crumpled bits of paper. Anyway, she was contentedly basking in the warmth, when those short, black and white legs began to twitch. Twitching increased to actual movements as if she was beginning to run after something. I have to say, it was hard to keep from giggling out loud. I didn’t want to waken her from what most obviously was a very exciting chase. I certainly didn’t want to be responsible for letting whatever it was (I’m guessing a mouse) get away.
Just when it appeared to be reaching an end, she suddenly got up and looked around in bewildered confusion. It was as clear as all get out that she was looking for, whatever she’d been after in her dream. I couldn’t help it, I began to chuckle. It was just too darn adorable. Pudgie looked at me, then around her immediate vicinity, and then looked around some more. She simply couldn’t figure out what had happened. Where had the mouse gone? It couldn’t simply disappear, could it?
“What’s the matter, Pudgie,” I asked, giggling with amusement, “lose something?”
She answers much as she always does, “urrrr?”
She’s so darn cute, even when she looks at me, like I stole her imaginary mouse.

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About Trudy Andrew

Trudy Andrew lives on a small farm just east of Winnipeg, Manitoba, where she enjoys her Morgan horses. A dreamer since she was a child, its no surprise to those who know her well that her imagination would find an outlet in writing, as it has in the past through artwork.
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 Oakbank, MB