Phantom Felines And Other Ghostly Animals - Gerina Dunwich 2006

Frolic
Phantom Felines

by Tara Fischbach

In my home in Federal Way, Washington, we always had cats. We loved them so much that when my dad found abandoned kittens in a parking lot the whole family gladly spent the time to bottle-feed and raise them.

Over the years we owned a lot of different kitties because, unfortunately, we lived with a busy street on one side of our house, woods on the other, and woods across the street, which all made for a bad combination concerning curious cats. My dad, however, had a cat that was smart and tuff, Pig Pen (she got this name because the first day we had her she racked up the garage and got filthy). She was just a little too “friendly” with the tomcats in our neighborhood and was always pregnant.

One summer Pig Pen had a fairly large litter, eight kittens. I went out to the garage, her favorite nesting place, and brought her fresh food and water every day. I also checked on the kittens to make sure they were doing all right as well.

The first day I went out I heard a kitten’s faint “meow” away from the litter, but couldn’t find it. A little over a week passed by and one day when I checked on Pig Pen I definitely heard a kitten on the other side of the garage. I searched all through a bunch of stored boxes and found him. He was much smaller than all the other kittens, had bugs crawling on him, and was very weak. I rushed into the house, cleaned him up, and checked him over. I could tell he was very malnourished because his gums were white. I showed my dad and cried, asking if we could get him some kitten formula so I could take care of him. My dad, of course, said yes.

I raised that kitten on my own; he was all mine. I immediately had a special bond with him and kept him with me all the time. He slept in my bedroom in his own little basket, went with me when I went to my friends’ homes, and was like a baby to me. When he began walking he had a funny little hop to him. To me he seemed to frolic around, so that is what I named him, Frolic.

I soon learned the reason he was abandoned; he seemed to be mentally retarded. With so many kittens to feed, Pig Pen must have taken the “defective” one and disposed of it. Frolic would fall off of ledges, walk into walls, and literally trip over his own feet. I desperately tried to keep him inside but being a male cat, that was impossible.

Frolic came up missing for a few days and I found him in the woods by our house. I could see a car had hit him; his tail was limp and he could barely move. I nursed him back to health and again a car hit him. He survived the second one but you know what they say: “Third time’s a charm.”

I came home one night with a new collar for Frolic and my dad looked sad when I showed the collar to him. I had had Frolic for three years, raised him myself, nursed him back to health twice, and loved him more than anything, so my dad knew the sensitivity of the news he was about to tell me. He sat me down and said he found Frolic dead by the road when he got home from work and buried him. I cried so much it was like having my heart ripped out.

That night I went to bed and dreamed that Frolic came up from the grave to see me. The next night I had the same dream. On the third night I was settling in and felt something jump on the bed and settle in just like Frolic would do. I moved my feet around thinking it was my imagination, settled in again, and felt the same movement at my feet. I jumped up and turned on the light, but nothing was there. I got back into bed and again felt him jump up on the bed and lay down at my feet where he always did. I just let it go and went to sleep.

I told my mom about it the next day and she said he probably came in like he always did. I thought it was kind of strange that there could be a ghost cat. I thought only people became ghosts, but my mom explained that he was my baby and probably wasn’t ready to go.

One night I had a bad dream and awoke startled. It felt like I kicked something and heard his telltale “meow.” Every night for months I felt him snuggle up to my feet. It was nice to have him around a little longer and it made his passing a little easier to bear. I think maybe he somehow knew how much I loved him and wanted to stick around just a little while longer.