I have whole other careers in my sleep. Last night I dreamed about working on a comic strip called Catman Druthers.
The main character, a humanoid cat named Catman, worked as a software engineer for a waste management company. Exciting, huh? His wife, Kitty, ran a daycare.
They lived in the suburbs of a metropolis filled with anthropomorphic animals and just to be confusing, they kept pets. The Druthers’ dog, Flora, chased the mailman, energy-efficiently since the postal worker was also a squirrel.
They had another pet, Manbird, a parrot with a human head, who sat on a perch in the office or kitchen and made wry comments on stuff.
The particular strip I was working on in the dream showed Catman sitting in the floor watching the dog eat as Kitty walks in.
“Watcha doing, hon?” Kitty asks.
“Trying to teach the dog to be more finicky,” says Catman.
The second panel is a close up of the dog scarfing down something and wagging her tail. The word balloons of Kitty and Catman fill the top of the panel.
“How’s it going?” asks Kitty.
“Not too good,” says Catman. “She still eats anything I put down.”
Last panel is a discouraged-looking Catman saying, “That’s a bowl of gravel.”