True* tale - ghost cat encounter
When I was a child, there were families with children of an age to play with in almost every house around ours. The house on the corner of Renn Road and Morgan Drive had three children, one a boy about my age and one a girl about the age of my oldest sister. I don't remember any of their names - neither personal, nor family, but I can recall the name of their cat - Boots.
Boots was a tuxedo cat, black with white markings, including white "boots" on its back legs. An indoor/outdoor cat. Unfortunately it was hit by a car and died and the family children were devastated.
My older sister, 13 or 14 at the time (which means I would have been around 10), was invited to the corner house for a sleepover and during the course of the sleepover, they held a seance, sitting around a table, holding hands, staring at candle. Boots was the only recently dead being they knew of - I guess they figured that that wouldn't be afraid of a cat (which means it must have been LONG before King wrote Pet Semetary) - so they called for Boots to come to them. My sister Mary was freaked out because she *felt* the cat, rubbing up against her leg. Weird thing is - my sister Mary never liked cats at all. After that, she liked them even less.
I lost a cat 12 years ago - Smoky Joe. Sometimes when I'm lying down in the middle of the day, I'll feel a cat jump up on the bed and prowl around - looking for a place to lie down like they do - and getting too close to the pillows at the head of the bed. So I'll put my arm down to stop her from getting there because, well, the ShadowCat leaves black fur EVERYWHERE!
Except there will be no cat there. Often, the door will be tightly shut so the ShadowCat can't even get in. Unfortunately, after I've looked to see that there is nothing there ... there is nothing there even after I close my eyes again.
* for a given value of true - this IS a tale which was told to a pre-pubescent child by an older sibling.
Boots was a tuxedo cat, black with white markings, including white "boots" on its back legs. An indoor/outdoor cat. Unfortunately it was hit by a car and died and the family children were devastated.
My older sister, 13 or 14 at the time (which means I would have been around 10), was invited to the corner house for a sleepover and during the course of the sleepover, they held a seance, sitting around a table, holding hands, staring at candle. Boots was the only recently dead being they knew of - I guess they figured that that wouldn't be afraid of a cat (which means it must have been LONG before King wrote Pet Semetary) - so they called for Boots to come to them. My sister Mary was freaked out because she *felt* the cat, rubbing up against her leg. Weird thing is - my sister Mary never liked cats at all. After that, she liked them even less.
I lost a cat 12 years ago - Smoky Joe. Sometimes when I'm lying down in the middle of the day, I'll feel a cat jump up on the bed and prowl around - looking for a place to lie down like they do - and getting too close to the pillows at the head of the bed. So I'll put my arm down to stop her from getting there because, well, the ShadowCat leaves black fur EVERYWHERE!
Except there will be no cat there. Often, the door will be tightly shut so the ShadowCat can't even get in. Unfortunately, after I've looked to see that there is nothing there ... there is nothing there even after I close my eyes again.
* for a given value of true - this IS a tale which was told to a pre-pubescent child by an older sibling.