Kithold (catfinition) – psychological, emotional, or physical grip cats employ to control people and situations.
In use: “The cat did not move, but emitted a high-pitched growl and stared. The kithold effectively froze the people and dogs in place.”
The Direction Dream
Hartford, CT.
It seems like a strange place for a destination for a writer living in Oregon, but that’s where I was going in my dream.
It began as a confused melange of chaotic colors. A story emerged. I was with my wife, and a friend, Mark (not his real name), and his wife. We’d survived something and had come together. Now we were going to Hartford, CT. Then we’d fly out of there. I don’t know where we were flying to.
I said, “Okay, I know the way. Follow me.”
My wife and I got in our car and started driving. Mark and his wife were in an eighteen-wheeler truck. Mark drove. His truck was glossy black with neon green trim. At first, I was leading, but coming up on two other eighteen-wheelers, I became stuck behind them. Mark passed us. The three trucks were aligned across the highway, blocking all three lanes. All three trucks were painted the same color and style, glossy black with neon green trim.
I managed to pass them with some aggressive driving. The highway entered a woods and then became an unpaved rough path that grew fainter and narrower. We finally stopped because it seemed like the wrong way, and we couldn’t go on.
Meeting up with Mark, he said, “I have GPS. I’ve mapped out the way. Follow me.”
I said, “Where are we going?” I knew we’d said Hartford, Connecticut, before, but it seemed odd.
“Hartford, Connecticut,” Mark said.
“Why Hartford, Connecticut?” I said.
Mark laughed. “Don’t worry. We’re going to fly out of there. Trust me.”
We drove in our vehicles, me following him. In a surprisingly short time, we stopped. We weren’t in Hartford, Connecticut, but in someplace we’d stay until we could go on. My wife went ahead with Mark and his wife while I stayed behind to help a homeless person, chatting with them while giving them food and money.
Then I went to the hotel. I told the desk agent who I was and who I was looking for, but they knew me, and said we were already checked in. I prepared to pay, but they told me it was all already paid for, and showed me into a luxury suite. It was gorgeous, with a private dining area for the suites on that floor that was on a balcony overlooking an amazing vista. That’s where my companions were sitting and chatting.
Mark had it all arranged. All I needed to do was to trust and follow him. I agreed to do that.
After buying some food for our trip, we departed. Two cats traveled with me. Sometimes they were in a kennel, but sometimes they wandered about freely. It seemed like we were traveling in our suite at that point, confusing me. I’d get in my car to drive, but the entire place would go, not requiring me to do anything but trust Mark. My wife and I socialized with him and his wife.
His wife had a birth defect that left her without feet. Instead of feet, her legs ended in two knuckles that she walked around on. She had several animals, too.
An issue emerged with her. She was eating soldiers. As this hubbub arose, I rushed to learn what was going on, and to basically get involved. What she actually ate were small plastic soldiers. While it appalled me because they were plastic, probably didn’t taste good, and lacked nutritional value, I defended her against the rest, and they agreed. They didn’t like it but she wasn’t doing anything wrong.
After that, I fed my cats and found several extra sandwiches that I’d bought for the trip. They were in my car, in a compartment made to hold them. The sandwiches were of the kind called submarine sandwiches, or subs, like I bought at G.C. Murphy’s when I was a child. I didn’t eat the sandwiches, because I had food, but hung onto the sandwiches to eat them later.
That’s where it all ended, giving me a lot to think about on my walks today. We were still enroute to Hartford, Connecticut. It was the place to go, according to Mark, and we’d get there, if I just trusted him.
I’ve already taken some ideas from it. Chiefly, Mark is my muse, and I need to quit second-guessing him. If I do, I’ll get where I want to go.
Hartford, Connecticut? It’s not a matter of the name of the place, but rather a destination that I don’t know. It’s named, but it’s a surprise.
There was another dream, but I feel too exhausted from thinking and writing about that one to go into now. I’ll write about it another time.
Trust me.
Floofgemony
Floofgemony (catfinition) – event or circumstances defined by cats having preponderant influence.
In use: “Filled with stories, images, and videos featuring cats and kittens, the Internet was slowly becoming a floofgemony.”
Furvasive
Furvasive (catfinition) – cat or dog fur spreading extensively throughout a place or on objects.
In use: “The household’s three cats and two dogs’ furvasive present was known through fur on their clothing and furniture. Getting it off seemed impossible, almost like the fur was in the air like rain. The black cat’s impact seemed more furvasive than the rest combined, particularly on the bed, where the aging house panther liked to sleep.”
Purrprietary
Purrprietary (catfinition) – a cat’s claim of ownership by sitting or laying on it and purring.
In use: “He’d bought the laptop for his planned writing career, but as soon as he set it up and turned it on, Pepper, his Siamese cat – positioned herself on the keyboard and purred, establishing her purrprietary claim.”
Influenced
When you start chasing butterflies, stalking spiders, and trying to catch house flies, you may have been around cats too much, and might need to take a break from their presence.
This is also true if you get excited when you hear food being opened, or if you try to get into a room when someone else is in there and have closed the door.
Floofcifer
Floofcifer (catfinition) – a devilish cat.
In use: “Acting in true floofcifer behavior, the diabolical little ginger cat waited until the man turned his back to rush forward, swat the other cat on its rear, and then turn and race to hiding before anyone could react.”
Floofbernation
Floofbernation (catfinition) – condition or state in which a cat sits motionless, with their eyes open, their paws and legs curled and tucked underneath them, and their tail wrapped along their body, to stay warm.
In use: “It was a weak sun, so the cat went into floofbernation on the sidewalk in the hope that strong sunshine would soon arrive.”
The Cat Dream
Seems inevitable that I’d have a dream about cats. Four cats deign to let me live in the house with them. All were strays or left another house by their choice to come live with me. Besides them, Pepper from next door stays on our porch and wants me to feed her (which I do), and two other neighbor cats seek me for hand-outs. I’m a soft touch.
But when I started writing about the cat dream, I concluded the dream wasn’t about cats. They were symbols being used. The words I chose to explain what was happening indicated the dream was about other things.
It was another dream of chaos (like, straight out of the courts). So much was going on, and my dream started in the middle of it. I was carrying a cat (not one that I have, nor have ever had) from one end of a busy, hectic place, to another. People kept calling me over to come and see or do something, or help them out. I ended up multi-tasking, and ending up losing the cat.
Now the dream became a story about a flooftective. Calling the cat, asking others if they’d seen her, I walked around shaking a kibble box, my agenda re-arranged. Thinking I’d heard it back by my place, I went there.
The dream gets weird. My place didn’t have walls, but was framed for walls. Doors and windows had been installed, but there wasn’t a ceiling. There was a fireplace, and a wall-less bathroom. Instead of using it, I chose to go up the hill to a public restaurant, clean, but not convenient.
My place was also unbelievably disorganized, with boxes strewn about, including empty cracker boxes. Anyone who knows me will recognize how different that is from my real life.
Without walls, people walked in and out of my place at will, exasperating me. I became stern about stopping people as they did that. A cat fight erupted, distracting me again. As I hunted down those involved, I discovered a cat that wasn’t mine as at the fight’s center. He looked like my current cat, Tucker, with thick, black and white fur and a bushy tail. As I was talking to this cat, asking, “Who are you?” in a calm voice, I heard a woman calling for Harold. While I called over to her, asking if her cat was black and white, the black and white cat left. I decided it was probably Harold.
The dream, or my memory of it, ended.
***
Writing about the dream, I found myself using expressions like ‘multi-tasking’. I ended up applying it to my writing efforts.
Other clues were there, like being side-tracked, the missing walls, and the sense of chaos and disorganization. See, while writing this series this week, I became diverted into a fifth book in it. I soon recognized it would be a stand-alone novel that shared the concept and setting, much like the relationship between The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings trilogy.
Then, I realize how much I enjoy the creative side of writing. I dislike the rest of it. I don’t mind editing and revising – that’s like solving puzzles – but the business side is anathema to me. So, if I don’t finish, I’m working on a series, but there’s no pressure to finish and publish.
Cunning, aren’t I?
So, after thinking of the dream and situation, I knew that I had to stop working on the new, fifth novel, and finish the original series as envisioned. I can later go back to the fifth novel, if I want.
Right?
Right.
Catwich
Catwich (catfinition) – inserted or stuck between two or more felines, often in a bed or restricted space, reducing its comfort.
In use: “Once again, he found himself pinned in bed, the human lunch meat in a catwich, with two floofs on either side acting as slices of bread to hold him in. It was like they planned these things.”
Michael Seidel, writer 