As we were approaching bed time last night, Macky got scared from Rebecca’s feet under the covers. I suppose he didn’t know what it was, why it was moving, and how he would ever survive FEET UNDER COVERS. However, Macky ended up being so scared, and so jumpy, that he refused to be on the bed all night. And when I’d plop him on it, he’d walk around ever so cautious as if this was it for him. We tried showing him there was nothing wrong with the bed; he wouldn’t have it.

Rebecca and I, not afraid of feet under the covers, fell asleep shortly after.

I had a dream last night that left me rather uncomfortable and confused. I had woken up to see our Sunny laying towards the end of the bed — almost near where Macky had been so afraid. Sunny was just laying there, like he normally does, looking down upon Macky playing. He was sitting turkey-cat style, purring and breathing loudy, with his ears back; ready to pounce on Macky. I remember sitting up in bed and going to pet him when he ever so slightly looked up at me with his eyes. I guess at that point, I fully woke up from my sleep. I immediately turned on one of our lamps and just kind of sat there, puzzled. I ended up walking into the living room, and sitting on the ottoman for a few moments while I tried to grasp what actually occurred.

I don’t really know how to take the dream. I want to believe that Macky’s incident earlier in the night is related to my dream. I feel as if it’s more than just a coincidence, or that it simply triggered my dream. There must be more to everything; it just feels that way. But everything still left me rather confused. Was it my subconscious trying to comfort me with everything that is occuring? Was it god (gasp, I said god) trying to tell me to prepare for the worst? Was it Sunny asking us to hold on longer and give him more time to fight?

At the least, even if it was only a dream, I got to see Sunny, at home on our bed, extremely happy. I’d give anything to have him home, and healthy, again.

There’s been a bottle of anti-depressants sitting on my desk for about two weeks now. I’m supposed to be taking them right before bed — there’s a slight sedative in them that would allow me to sleep relatively easier. They weren’t prescribed to be because I’m depressed, unhappy, nor anything else to that extent. They were prescribed to help with my on-going saga of anxiety-like attacks while I’m sleeping. Sometimes dubbed ‘night terrors.’