Weird...

So I just had a weird, weird dream.  I was trying to take a nap on the couch (which for some reason always makes me wake up with a nasty headache) and I wasn't really sleeping...more dozing than anything else.  So I'm dozing and here's the dream.  I'm walking around near some large body of water, probably an ocean.  Abe Lincoln walked by with those really high wading overall things that fly fisherman wear.  He was singing 'Black Hole Sun' by Soundgarden, which is my favorite song so I started singing with him.  I was sitting in the water, which was nice and warm, and the waves were coming up to about my shoulder.  It was very relaxing.
Then suddenly I was walking around with a cat carrier with my cat who recently passed, Butterscotch.  He was a great cat, he died the other day after battling a thyroid issue for about a year.  He was literally skin and bones- even the pin that was in his hip from when he was hit by a car about ten years ago came out and when he tried walking around his legs splayed out but he was a fighter.  Add that to the fact that he was 18 and well, it was really his time to go.  Doesn't make me less sad, don't get me wrong.  But at least he had a good long life.  Everyone loved this cat, despite his trademark which was stealing food off your plate if you turned your back for a second.  Sandwiches, steak, fish he didn't care.  He used to eat Cheez-Its, Goldfish crackers, Cheetos, etc.  Well anyway, I'm carrying him in the carrier (sorry, didn't know how else to word that- transporting sounded wrong because I was walking) and finally I come across a vet, who tells me I can't bury him and offers to do an autopsy to see if they can figure out how they can learn about thyroid diseases and try and find a cure.  I say yes. Then we opened the carrier (my mother somehow materialized, unless she was waiting for me there) and he looked at me.  He was alive!  I was so happy, but I really wasn't because even though it was a dream I still knew in my heart that he was dead.  After all I buried him the other day.  So that was it.  I woke up all depressed.
I think I understand part of it, not the Abe Lincoln part though.  I am thinking that the reason I said yes to the autopsy thing is because of what happened with my brother's dog last year.  He was an old man too, Barney the Beagle was.  He died from an unfortunately common cancer in dogs called Hemangiosarcoma, you can read about it HERE on Wikipedia.  Basically it's something that by the time you notice symptoms, it's already too late.  He refused to donate his body to science to help learn about the disease.  I remember him saying "No, I want him to cross over whole."  That really struck me.  He never talks like that, but in my family we love our pets.  I understand it completely.

Butterscotch last year, staking claim to a bone we left downstairs for the dog!

Butterscotch's grave I dug.