Later, I was sitting in a pub with my father (who was looking very well, for someone who's been dead almost 10 years). He was telling me about his friend Jack the gardener, who - or so my father thought - was entering a slow decline. "There are no obvious physical signs yet, but you can tell. He knows it too. You can see the fear in his eyes."
"Never glad confident morning again?"
Then Jessie the cat was sitting on my chest, and I awoke.