Last night I dreamed of Samantha, the first cat we ever had. We have another Samantha, but it was the first one, the one who had passed on who I dreamed of last night. She spoke to me in English. This is the second time that one of our pets has talked to me in a dream. She asked me not to pick her up. She was bleeding, she was sore wounded and lying in a box on her side. The water was rising and she was in danger. I was already there to rescue a bunch of baby kittens, but when I saw she was there too I centered my efforts on getting her to safety. When she asked me not to pick her up I said something about not really picking her up because I would be holding the box she was in. Except the water had begun to disintegrate the box and it was falling apart even as I tried to pick her up. That’s when I woke up. I found a picture of her and Goldie, my mother's Yorkie sitting side by side looking out of our front window.
In the morning DeeDude told me he’d dreamed of Molly, one of our other cats who had died. I’ve never known us to both dream of our cats on the same night. I found a picure of Molly, in the background, with her best friend Mitzie, in the foreground. She insisted I find a picture of the two of them together. Both have passed on.
I am a firm believer in the idea that those who have passed on can visit with us in our dreams. I just wish I'd been lucid and able to enjoy the visits while they were happening.