On the night of 4th June 2005 I went bed and just before I woke up the next morning I had a dream that mum came in and told me they were pretty sure Cookie had died in his sleep. I went to check him and he wasn’t dead, nearly but not quite.
Imagine my surprise when upon waking up mum comes in and says exactly that, in exactly the same words she used in my dream. I take a look at him (part of him is sticking out of his house) and can’t see him breathing, I can’t bare to explore further yet so I say to mum “just leave him in peace for the moment.” Which, I admit, is probably a strange thing to say about something that’s no longer alive.
A couple of hours later I pluck up courage and go over to his house and stroke him down the bit of his back that’s sticking out of his house. He doesn’t move but I think I can feel some pulsating, so I lift some of the bedding off and he moved! Only very slightly, he was practically dead.
What made it even odder is somehow he managed to hang on to life all through that day and died the night/morning of June 6th - five years to the day since Bob, my first pet, died. I swear he knew :-)