That just reminded me of what a freaky dream I had last night. I was in the backyard and saw a cougar run past my house up the hill behind it. Then another from the other side of the house. I kept making noise n making myself big so they would notice and keep it movin. 4 or 5 of them wound up fighting up on the hill in pairs til eventually I just started meowing at the last one to pass. She got friendly and wound up letting me pet her, came n rolled around on the ground with me, cuddling on my chest. I remember it was a she because I noticed the nipples as I was half terrified, half enjoying the affection. Before I noticed the gender I was going to name her Steve French after the dope loving cougar on the Canadian sitcom Trailer Park Boys. This is clearly a metaphor for my sparse, terrifying love life ? I’ve either gotta go easier on the ganja or harder, just to be safe. Can’t decide.

...and not get eaten.

I like it....mine thinks he is a big cat, for sure.