and what did the dream tell me?: hansel. no. wait... hanzel, with a z.
yes, that's it. say it out loud. say it like a euro-trooper, not an american southerner. haaaahn-tsle.
of course, in my dream, the name was being ascribed to some kitten growing outside the womb that was somehow a product of one or more of the cats belonging to brian and myself. i queried the cats to see if they agreed my fear was well-founded that this particular cat was still too stupid to know how to not run out into the street. they nodded lightly, briefly squeezed their eyes shut, and rolled their lips together a little bit as brian (who i had been searching endlessly for) turned into a large bouquet of shimmering, lavender irises and disappeared.