Caveat Lector

Well, not exactly. Or at least, not from Dream’s point of view.

I caught him sitting on the table by the dining-room window staring steadily upwards, shoulders hunched and tail thwacking the table. Figuring he’d ticked off a squirrel, I bent down and followed his gaze up… into the beady eye of a robin sitting on her nest in the spruce outside.

I petted Dream and told him he was a good boy, and he looked at me disgustedly, knowing that I wasn’t going to go on a bloody robin-chasing rampage as is only right and proper. But on the whole, looking at him now, he seems quite satisfied with himself.