The Cat with the Notice Tacked on its Back

I had a dream the other night. I was at this farm, and for some reason it was having some kind of open house. So the whole place was did up like it was a fair, replete with ribbons and ponies and excited children zipping through your legs. It was really pretty too, the fields awash in golden light and the grass rippling in the breeze. So there I was, strolling along with a friend of mine (I can't quite remember who now, but maybe it was Daphne), and we came to the top of this small hill where a building stood, I know not for what purpose, but running alongside the building there was a nice long row of cages waiting to be explored. This is probably where my mind confuses between farm animals and pet shop, but let's be forgiving. My friend and I walked up to the first bunch of cages, admiring the pretty bunnies inside when, from nowhere, a meow rings out. Thus we take a few steps backwards, and sure enough, under the cages, was the prettiest little cat I'd ever beheld. It had a white band around its eyes, the neatest, cutest pair of ears, a long, thick, creamy orange coat that reached down to the ground like a nicely combed wig parted in the middle, all topped off with a set of quaint, stubby legs. I bent down to try and pick it up - this part is reminiscent of the time I went to SPCA and took a cat out of her cage and then she decided she'd like to hide under them and never come out again. It took me a long time to accept this, but in the end I ran to the staff with my tail between my legs pleading for help with the Cat Planning Her Escape Route Out of 0.5x0.5x0.5 Hell - and she just dashed out from under them, down the cobbled steps of the stairs next to the cages. And I gave chase, because she really was such a charming creature, and that was when I noticed that, tacked somehow on her behind, was a notice that read: Please Do Not Use As A Mop.