Life As Performance Art 67

I had a very intense dream before I woke this morning. I was checking out a couple of houses in an old neighbourhood, accompanied by a young gay male couple, early twenties. I think they might have been formerly in the sex trade, or street-involved, but there was none of that between us and we got on well as friends. I was helping them source a place to live. They had two cats. I think one was a black and white tuxedo cat, the other was a Siamese with lynx or tabby markings. One of the fellows decided to stay where he was, in a temporary situation, while his partner and I went looking for another place for them. I was carrying the Siamese cat, which was still a kitten, friendly and gentle. This neighbourhood was like nothing I have seen in Vancouver. The houses were in some places in rows of three or four, one behind the other off the street. There were a lot of trees and it was a beautiful green neighbourhood and the houses themselves looked Victorian and early Edwardian, not that big. but they hadn't been gentrified, and some of them still looked rather old and shabby. There was also a collection of houses that had been converted into restaurants, cafes, boutiques and bookshops. We had actually lost the house where the other young man was staying, and try as we might, we were not able to find it. In the meantime, I was a bit worried about the cat, getting it in a place where it would settle okay. The young man that I was with and I looked in one of the restaurants. It was Italian, and we could hear someone yelling orders from the kitchen to the floor staff. I knew that we would have to get back downtown, to the place where the couple were currently staying. I think it was in or next door to a church. So, unable to get a cat onto the bus, I said to him that we would have to split the money for a cab. He said there was no way he could pay for it and I told him not to worry, that I would take care of it. Then I woke up. I do not know what this dream means, only that it was so real that I thought it was actually happening, which for me is a very typical dream experience. I am also reminded of when I was seventeen and a friend and I had come across an abandoned kitten in a parking lot downtown (where the central branch of the Vancouver Public Library now stands). We weren't able to give the cat a home, ourselves, since our respective parents would have forbidden it, so we wandered around that evening carrying the cat (we took turns) trying to find someone who would take her in. We eventually stumbled into an opening at the then location of the Vancouver Art Gallery, where we were surrounded by white wine, cheese, and famous and up and coming artists (one of them, Gathie Falk, became a close friend of mine just five years later, even though now that she's famous, she doesn't seem to want to know that I even exist.) My friend and I hitchhiked home to Richmond and the fellow who gave us a ride took the cat and gave her a good home. Everyone hitchhiked in those days. It wasn't exactly safe, but that was in the early seventies, before the mass hysteria that was ignited when a particularly loathsome pedophile, picked up and murdered a good number of juvenile hitchhikers. I haven't hitchhiked in many years, not because of safety concerns, but simply because I am too old, it is no longer done, and I would prefer to walk or ride the bus. It was an interesting way of getting around when I was young. I met many fascinating people, and also a few idiots, made new friends, and learned a lot about life and people. I haven't found any lost kittens lately. And I would love to know what that dream is about, and especially the location. It was not in Vancouver, but it looked like a distinctive heritage neighbourhood in a real city, and I often wake up from my dreams wondering where the hell I was and if I can ever visit there again.