By Rachel H Grant
Nureyev slept in the early morning sun, dreams caressing his soul. Peace painted his feline body in beautiful shades of grey. The picture was a perfect moment, a photograph of purity.
In the open window, a dreamcatcher fluttered. Magic unknown played with its feathers.
It was usually Nureyev who played with the dreamcatcher. Its magic was infectious. He stirred in his sleep, as the dreams of other people surrounded him, a silent crowd awaiting a nod, a call to action. Nureyev began to purr. The waiting dreams flew up, through the dreamcatcher and out the window. A mission was in motion.
Nureyev stirred in his sleep, as though he could feel the wind of dreams all around him. Little did he know, but as a kitten a witch placed dream-making energy in him. He was an experiment, a living test subject in handsome grey fur. He ran away from the witch’s house, finding a home he was happier with. The witch never witnessed the transformation of her guinea pig, or knew of the dreams created, cared for and set free.
Nureyev opened his eyes. The dreams of a stranger stared back. He could feel it, he could almost see them, the shadows of dreams unborn. Nureyev knew that nothing is more pitiful than a destroyed or unrealised dream.
Reluctantly, he climbed out of his comfortable bed. Out on the street, he soon saw her. The child pregnant with a dream. Life a mystical midwife, he ran across the road and rubbed around her. “What a lovely cat!” breathed the girl.
She would return home, unaware of the change in her aura, oblivious to the dream energy all around. A week later, it arrived. A gift from her elderly great aunt. Almost exactly the dream dolls house she had imagined! Large, full of tiny furniture and pretty dolls. It was everything she had wished for.
In the neighbouring street, Sonia stared at the pair of ballet shoes. She had brought them with her own pocket money. But her parents had said that the closest ballet class was too far to go each week. She could cry.
Later that day, Sonia encountered a grey cat in her garden. She stroked him happily, she loved cats! Little did she know, the blessings in his heart. But five weeks later, when the local ballet teacher decided to start a ballet class in her village, she had forgotten all about him.
Tom wished for a brother, he was a lonely kid with few friends. One day he found a grey cat sleeping on his bed; it must have come in a downstairs window. The cat behaved as though he were his best friend, jumping up in delight to rub around him.
Nine months later, Tom gained his little brother. He had long since forgotten about the friendly cat in his room.
Nina longed for a best friend. She was bullied at school and deeply unhappy. One day, a cat followed her down the street. She stopped and petted it. Perhaps she should ask for a kitten. But her mother would not approve, she was too house-proud.
Two months later, a new girl moved to the town, and became her trusted best friend. Nina had never been so happy.
So Nureyev continued his dreamcatcher days, receiving no thanks but savouring so much satisfaction. He didn’t know what he did … but he knew he did something.
Then one fateful day, it was time for Nureyev – not for a dream, but for a nightmare to come true.
His parents were moving abroad, and there was no room for him in the suitcase! He ended up in a very strange place, lots of different people by day, nobody by night except the other cats he now shared his life with. Little did he know, he had moved to a cat café.
Everyday, he met new people. And every day, new dreams were born. His potential for pursuing good was now one hundred fold what it had been. However, although he spread such happiness, he knew none himself.
One day, a young woman played with him, joy in her eyes. Her own cat had died days before. Naomi knew straight away that she wanted this cat: a dream devoured her heart, demanding that she fight to make it real. She begged and begged the café owner for Nureyev. Eventually, the owner agreed: her dream sealed with a thank you cheque and an unbelieving smile.
So Nureyev had found his forever home. It was not just any home. There was a dreamcatcher over the door, its familiarity damping his new home fears. The house itself was huge, his new owner apparently very rich. There was a cat playroom just for him! And a large garden to explore and make his own.
Finally, after so many years giving to others, his own dream had been delivered. Soon, he forgot about helping people. Enjoyment became his existence. There was nothing else to wish for, he had it all.
Far away, another cat woke up one day, and thought: “I know how to make dreams come true.” Sometimes he dreamt of Nureyev, a large grey cat with gleaming eyes. Then he forgot about him. A personal adventure to spread happiness had begun. Dreams followed in his wake like a heaven-sent shadow.
Nureyev slept in the early morning sun, a children’s lullaby in his head. Contentment stroked his handsome features. The picture was a dream in motion.
Above the door, a dreamcatcher fluttered. But Nureyev did not wake up. His dream was too good; awake and asleep, all of life was one big dream come true. Memories of deeds gone past floated in his head, and then were gone. Nureyev purred as he dreamed, and the sleeping world purred with him. Then his dream faded, and real slumber claimed his soul. There was no need to dream ever again. Dreams were for the disheartened; he had left them far behind. A new life beckoned. Nureyev smiled inside. There was nowhere to run to anymore. Paradise purred for a better day. That day had come.
Photo by Kasya Shahovskaya, on Unsplash