The other night, one of our cats made an appearance in one of my dreams.
That’s far from unusual.
The fact that I remember the main plot of said dream?
That’s unusual.
So, we are staying at some posh hotel in Las Vegas. Even though I loathe Vegas. And the hotel can’t be TOO posh, as our fancy room overlooks a vacant lot. For whatever reason, we brought Kahlua with us. Why not any of the other four, I don’t know. Maybe because she’s the smartest of the bunch, or perhaps because she always walks around with purpose, like a cat on a mission.
Anyways, Kahlua keeps escaping the room and going on adventures throughout the hotel. She stops thieves in their tracks and hunts down murder suspects.
That’s all I remember.
Except that I keep imagining Kahlua’s adventures and wondering if it would make a good book.
She would be like a mature version of Eloise dealing with crime instead of creating mischief.
Except she’s a cat. Named after a liqueur.
AWESOME! I love it, and would so buy that book… as long as there’s some plot-twist about the cat gambling at the slots and winning a jackpot of catnip. Or something like that.