Between being able to fly and being invisible, I'd rather fly.

It was one of those things I would daydream about when I was little, in the car, in the school cafeteria, in airports. I would also daydream about being able to breathe underwater all mermaid like, but without the tail. The idea of being able to swim and glide through water endlessly seemed to have the same feeling of freedom as the idea of flying through the air does.

Lately I find myself wishing I could communicate with animals. Sophie keeps squeaking at night. He's scratched his left shoulder raw and constantly grooms himself. He's otherwise healthy: still pudgy and quite active. His squeaks are out of pain when his scratching frenzy grazes his self inflicted wound. I want to know what's wrong and why he's doing this and and I want to tell him to stop scratching that spot. Oh, and not to freak out so much whenever the big giant hand needs to move him out so his home can be cleaned out.