Dreaming

I am on a street with Dad, about to go and view a house. I am looking at a house on one side of the road which looks really nice; it is number thirty-seven, but I’m not sure it’s the right one. I look for number thirty-eight as I’ve forgotten which one we’re seeing. Dad then says he can see which one; it’s over the other side of the road and is number thirty-six. The house is grotty. It is boarded up and run down, whereas the one over the road looks much nicer.

We go to the door and go in. The house is run down, but to my surprise, a family still lives there. I enter the hallway and go straight to the room at the back. I find this strange and think we should start at the front. As I enter the back room, I see a black cat, then another and another. I count the cats; there are ten, then I count again to sixteen black cats. I pull my clothes up to cover my mouth and nose and tell the estate agent that I am allergic to cats.

I leave the room, enter the lounge and see even more cats. The woman homeowner is sitting in the lounge. I realise she has over twenty cats, and I know this house is unsuitable as I’d never get rid of all the cat hair. I don’t understand why anyone would want that many cats in one house.