Stranger then Fiction/Short Story

Do we really know who we are and what our role is in the world? No
Do we have the freedom to choose for ourselves? No
Do the choices we make lead us to our fate even though we are the ones making the choice? Well we make choices thinking they are our own choices but they could very well be fated choices that we make
How can we know if we are really making the choice? We don't

There once was a man that lived on the top of a hill. He had a long white beard, a sleeping problem and no friends or companions except for his cat, Scuffles. Scruffles was, well, scruffily with gnarled orange and white fur and had a meow like no other.
Everyday the old name, whose name was Alex, worked in his garden and mended his livestock. And at the end of the day would make dinner, for both him and Scruffles, and they would sit together and listen to the radio until they eventually went off to bed.
One morning Alex woke up but to his surprise Scruffles was not at the end of his bed. But he took no note of it and just assumed his cat woke up early to find a mouse to chase.
He went to the kitchen and made breakfast, but Scruffles did not appear. And all throughout the rest of the day Scruffles did show up. Alex thought this was very strange and desided to go look for him.
He went all around his hill shouting for his long time friend but no avail. Had Scruffles gotten eaten by a fox? Alex did not know, but mornfully trudged back to his house.
That night Alex ate dinner, listened to the radio and fell asleep all alone. That night he had a nightmare like never before. He dreamed that he, Alex, had in fact brutally murdered his own pet and buddy. He dreamed that he brutally murdered his cat while sleep walking.
With a sudden wake, Alex leaped from his bed and ran to his closet. In his closet were very old mechanical parts, because when Alex was younger he had always wanted to build a time machine. And since he knew he had killed his cat he felt this time was as good as any to finally make the time machine. His plan was to go back in time and save his cat.
So he built his time machine, which he named Galactica four, and went back three days.
There he was, looking at himself and Scruffles listening to the radio, after what seemed a delightful supper. He didn't want to disturb, or confuse his past self by just walking up, so his plan was to wait until they were both asleep.
So, in the middle of the night, Alex walked up to his bed and softly took his cat and started for the Gilactica four. But then he stopped... There was only room for one in the Gilactica four. Without hesitation he put Scruffles in first and pressed go, and he went after.
On the way back all Alex could think about was how proud of himself he was a saving his beloved cat. But when he opened the door and steped out into his bedroom there was no cat. What happened?
Alex looked at the recent trips the time machine had made, and then with a look of utter shock he realized what he had done. He had sent Scruffles to the ice age. There was nothing he could do about it now, he would never be able to find his cat in all the ice and snow. All there was left to do was mope. And mope he did. For the rest of his life all the could think about was how stupid he was to think that a dream could have come true. It was nothing but a nightmare.