I had this really weird dream yesterday morning in which my cat was dying, except it wasn’t my cat, but some other. For some reason, we were watching a video of this cat tentatively stalking the garden with one eye shut, falling over a couple of times, bumping into things. We all remarked about how sad and brave it looked.

When the time came, it climbed onto a birdbath and stood up on its hind legs and gave a monologue about death. It took a Napoleonic pose as it did this, and it may have been wearing the hat and everything. I woke up before it died.

That, right there, is one of the most awesome dreams ever to have been had. If it had been a novel, critics would have said it had managed to be funny and sad at the same time, and they would have likened it to Shakespeare or something.