In my dream, Graeme was becoming emotional because a restaurateur had given the opinion that Graeme was unable to cook a steak as well as he has proclaimed.
Graeme started sobbing in choking gasps, like he was going to vomit
As I started to leave the dream, I realised the choking sobs were in fact Merlin working up to deposit the contents of his stomach on the landing outside my bedroom
By the time I reached him and involuntarily moaned “not inside! Not there!” and visualised chucking him out the bathroom window, he had placed himself under the towel cupboard and laid a neat sausage of smashed together cat crunchies on the carpet.
I went back to bed and left the cleaning of the neat, dry sausage of vomit up to Arky to deal with in the morning. He is, after all, her cat.