I dreamt that I taught a cat how to fly. Its fur black-and-white, and its hair short, it was on the large side. And quite fearless. If I would invite it, it would jump off a high ledge in the bathroom right into the bathtub in which I bathed. I would carry it in my arms wherever I went, and the cat trusted me with many a trick. One day I made a wing for it, and started casting it off from ever-higher places. Triangular in shape, the wing was constructed from light and sturdy materials. Its span was a bit less than six cat lengths, and it was a bit more than two cat lengths wide in the middle. There were four shallow holes for the cat’s paws in the middle, so it could jump off whenever it wished. When cast off from a high place, the wing itself would spin out of control, but the cat would balance it with its weight and pilot it with its feet. It could fly quite some distance and land softly. Its tail raised straight up, its body leaning forward, and its feet stiff, the cat was amazing to watch in flight. It would jump off only a moment before the wing touched the ground. I remember that I also experimented with weights placed along the wing, so that the cat could deliver things at a distance, but I do not remember how far I got with this idea. Long after I woke up, I could still see the cat pilot flying into the distance. An amazing scene, indeed.