Dr. Wee Beastie I Presume

Dreamed last night that my cat was my therapist. Spoke in the same dry if reassuring tones as my actual therapist, had the same office (albeit with a bed instead of a couch, for me) and everything. At the end of the session, I started to say "see you at home" but then realized it might seem unprofessional to the other clients who were waiting, as would scritchies or a squeeze. And asking how he learned to talk, as it suddenly occurred to me to do just before I woke up, seemed just plain rude and patronizing. It'd just have to wait.