What Dreams
He woke just long enough to realize he’d been dreaming in Japanese again. It wasn’t as if English was Mr. Fluffer’s strong suit, but at least he could get the basic gist of most conversations. He’d never even seen Japanese before, but he knew that it was Japanese with that dream certainty that tells you a person is your best friend even though you’ve never seen him before. It was something that he never felt was worth a great deal of thought, but it always left a peculiar curious feeling in the back of his mind.
As he settled back down, Mr. Fluffer drifted slowly back into sleep and dreamed one of his favorite dreams. It was, in fact, the oldest of cat dreams. Everything was indistinct and smudged around the edges, but the familiar sensations were there. There was the smell of fear, the sound of pain, and the taste of blood as hunter rose triumphant over prey. It was most gratifying. Mr. Fluffer hoped he’d get fresh gazelle for dinner…but he supposed that tuna would do in a pinch.