Your cat is worried for you, because you have square teeth. Think about that. Square teeth. Not sharp and needlelike, canine or feline, but square. Cubular molars. White, like blocks of marble.
I have never seen it written down as part of the children’s myth of tooth fairies that they use teeth as building blocks. Yet that is the assumption I had as a child, and I’ve spoken to people who assumed the same. That we came to this conclusion independently means it’s an obvious conclusion. Human teeth look like something designed to make a small house out of. Strong, lightweight, and easy to clean.
Your cat has this dream regularly: It is lying on top of the cat tree. The cat tree is made of human teeth, and is covered in fatty, comfortable laps. In the dream, it goes to sleep on the human teeth cat tree, and dreams. It dreams it has caught a fat mouse. This is exciting, because normally all it catches are caterpillars and black beetles, with the occasional lizard thrown in. Your cat bats the mouse, the mouse bares its teeth, which are square. They are your teeth exactly, crammed in its mouth.
After your cat eats the mouse that has your teeth, it wakes on the cat tree built of teeth and covered in warm laps. A while later, it wakes up from that dream too, and comes to find you, just so it can, as best it can, give you an odd look. Your cat did not consider it a good dream or a nightmare; cats don’t categorize dreams like that. Your cat is simply double-checking what your teeth look like. That is why your cat’s pupils are now so wide, so as to get a better look.
The tooth fairy is extinct. Habitat destruction. Human teeth, properly mortared together, were the only thing light enough to be floated up out of reach of the great Mugawumpa, yet strong enough to resist the pecks of the cawing Jakroc. Then children, rather than leaving the teeth on the window sill, started putting them under their pillows where the faeries couldn’t get them. Now all the tooth fairies are dead, eaten by the great Mugawumpa or the cawing Jakroc, but that’s alright. They were nasty things.
That is one theory of the extinction of tooth fairies. The other is that house cats ate them all. Your cat ate the every last one.
Here are my wisdom teeth. The dentist removed them so that I would stay, as Sinatra said, young at heart.
They are unsightly and have long tails, like tadpoles. They were so far back I could not brush them well. Last night I put them in the windowsill, with my window. I did not worry about the window screen, because all I have read suggests fairies them no impediment. When I woke in the morning they were gone, and I could hardly conceal my glee. Perhaps some feyririus dentile had survived after all. Then I noticed them on the floor. My cat had, as is his want, knocked them off the sill. He is always knocking small concrete nouns off of high places.
Here is a black cat, attempting to eat my teeth. This surprised me.
Here is a fat cat, sniffing the teeth. He did not try to eat them. This surprised me.
When you go to bed, dream of square toothed monsters.