Petey Fell Off the Bed

Last night about 11:45, as I lay dreaming, Petey fell out of the bed.  I felt him move, heard a yelp and then a thud.  I got up to check on him but he'd already high-tailed it out of the room.  Apparently, hugely embarrassed.  I found him in the living room on his brown pillow.  I felt of him and didn't feel anything out of place.  He decided to go out, which I thought was a good idea.  I watched him walk to the door and down the steps with no problem.  He scampered across the driveway, took care of business and came back up the steps.  No harm done.  He spent the rest of the night in the living room.  No harm done there either. The reason I am posting this is because of the dream I happened to be having at the time of the incident.

John and I were walking through a lovely landscaped area in northern Alabama.  There were lots and lots of pink crepe myrtles that were planted in a very artistic way.  He was lamenting that they shed so much and were hard to care for properly.  I was concerned for my shoes.  The area where we walked was not paved, but just lawn and my heels were sinking as I was wearing my favorite pair of dress shoes.  As we walked along, we realized that we were in a Civil War cemetery.  We began to look at the various monuments and headstones only to learn that this particular graveyard was for cats!  Yes, CATS!  Just about the time I realized where we were, I felt the move, heard the yelp followed by the thump. 

Anybody else think Petey knew what I was dreaming and was upset?  He certainly would not like me dreaming about cats, even dead ones.  Creepy, huh?