Phantom Felines And Other Ghostly Animals - Gerina Dunwich 2006

Callie
Phantom Felines

by C. A. Banks

Callie came into our lives the Christmas season of 1984. A neighbor gave her to my then three-year-old daughter for a present. Callie was only a kitten, but there was a sweet, matronly aspect to her even then. If she had been a person, I would have pictured her to be a slightly plump brunette woman, who loved to feed and nurture those who were close to her.

Callie quickly learned to love the outdoors. We lived on the outskirts of town, and there were plenty of fields and wooded areas for her to explore. She frequently gifted me with dead mice, gophers, and once, unfortunately, a baby bunny.

The most outstanding thing about Callie was her amazing spiritual and magickal ability. I often found her meditating, facing east. She often appeared in my dreams when they became frightening. She was always close by when I prayed or when I performed a healing ritual for a friend.

She divided her nights between my daughter’s bedroom and mine. At some point in the night, Callie would gracefully leap up onto the bed, landing on my shoulder and walking down the length of my body. I drowsily scolded her for waking me, but I loved when she lay against my legs and purred. It was as if she were watching over us. She was fiercely loyal and protective of my daughter and me.

Once, when Callie was out, a bat got in the house, badly frightening us. A neighbor came and took the bat away, but the next morning the bat was found dead on the front porch. Its ears were chewed off.

The most significant event in our eleven years with Callie was the time I saw an apparition in my bedroom. I had awoken to go to the bathroom. I was returning to my bedroom, foggy with sleep, when I noticed that Callie was crouched in the doorway, ears flattened, staring intently into the room. This was so unlike her that I was disturbed. I entered the room cautiously and looked around, suspecting some form of wildlife. Seeing nothing, I climbed back into bed. That was when I noticed a young man kneeling next to my exercise bike. He looked as if he were lit from within. I could see through him to the wall behind him. He wore a white shirt, dark slacks, and a sort of windbreaker jacket. He was smiling.

I screamed and ran into my daughter’s room. Callie remained crouching in the doorway, staring. (Any suspicion that I might be imagining the whole thing was dispelled by the cat’s obvious perception of the same thing I was seeing.) My daughter awoke and I held her, shaking uncontrollably.

Finally, I called an acquaintance who happened to be a professional psychic, and she told me that this person meant no harm but had come to warn me about something. Later, my daughter’s bike was stolen. I guess the ghost was trying to warn us about that.

We moved away, shortly after that, back into the city. Callie didn’t adjust very well to the move. At night, I heard her meowing mournfully. She still shared her nights equally between my daughter and I.

One day, I found a lump on her abdomen. I took her to the vet and learned that Callie had cancer. Although we had the tumor removed, she soon developed three more. As she grew weaker, I knew we had to let Callie go. I had a long talk with my daughter, and then we explained our decision to Callie. I knew that she understood. The next day I drove her to the Humane Society to be euthanized. As they carried her pet carrier away, she winked at me.

We moved out of state after that.

One night, about two years later, I was grieving for Callie. I wept a little and then fell asleep. At one point during the night I awoke. My eyes were closed but I could see the wall behind the bed begin to glow with a bright light. It seemed to dissolve into a mist and then Callie gracefully jumped through it. She landed on my shoulder and walked across my stomach exactly the way she had every single night in her life. I drowsily started to scold her, just the way I had countless times before. Then a feeling of such overwhelming grief and love overcame me that my eyes filled with tears again.

I opened my eyes. I couldn’t see her, but I could feel her little paws as she began walking along my body toward the foot of the bed as she always did in the past. She plopped down and began to purr. I lay very still, scarcely breathing. I could feel the purrs vibrating along my leg, just as always!

That loving visit healed me of my grief. It was proof to me that my Callie still lived on, just on another plane of existence. By the end of that year, our next cat came into our lives.