Fucking rattle-cats.
Last night I dreamt that I was taking a walk through what's left of the Red Hill Valley to see what progress the wildlife was making in its recovery from the bulldozered rape of its evironment. As I was walking I suddenly heard a rattle and felt a sharp pain in my ankle. I looked down and saw a little orange rattle-cat kitten with its teeth sunk into my leg angrily and the rattle on the tip of its fuzzy orange tail furiously rattling.

Fuck! I got bit by a rattle-cat! Was my first reaction. Then I felt kind of happy because rattle-cats are a rare, endangered species and the Red Hill Valley was one of their last known habitats so finding a kitten meant a breeding pair had survived. Then I thought, "shit I'm gonna die". Luckily I remembered that only 50% of rattle-cats are actually poisonous so I grabbed the cat by the scruff of its neck (which it was rather furious about) and carted it off to the vets to be analysed. Fortunately for me it was a non-poisonous rattle-cat but it was very ill so the vet needed to treat it and I would have to look after it for a few months to nurse it back to health.

I woke up this morning thinking "oh jeeze, I over slept. It's time to give the rattle-cat its medicine".

It wasn't until I got out of bed that I realized WTF?