2. Cat in the Cradle, Baby in the Box

I remember the dream quite vividly. A screaming, shrill, high-pitched voice was ever present. Blood poured down my temples as I bashed my head against a wall to stop the pain. The pain of the child. The pain of the child was intense. The child was my child… the child was a baby… the baby was my baby!!! The baby was my baby!!! And the cat!!! The cat was threshing my poor infant child, and there was nothing I could do!

… Then suddenly, I awoke. My wife lay beside me, and all seemed normal. Wiping the sweat from my brow, I slid out of bed. As I approached the baby’s chamber, my heart beat like a hammer on an anvil. Good-God, the suspense. I flipped on the light switch and rushed over to the baby’s cradle. To my ultimate horror I found that the baby was gone! In place of my beloved baby, among the infantile swaddling buntings, lay the cat!!!

All sanity drained from me, I scolded the feline. The cat did not answer. Frantically I searched the room. My eyes searched to and fro. Then, all at once, my heart and eyes settled. No more screams, no more pain. I could once again return to my peaceful slumber; because there, in the corner of the room curled up in the cat’s box, was my child; dreaming the dreams of an angel.

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