Phantom Felines And Other Ghostly Animals - Gerina Dunwich 2006

The Phantom Kitty
Phantom Felines

by Athena Sydney

One morning, I awakened at my friends’ house to what I thought was their cat, Sam, walking over the duvet on top of me. He approached me, purring loudly. I murmured, “Hi, Sam,” then turned and dozed off again. About an hour later I awoke and looked around the room. There was no Sam in sight, and the door was closed. Puzzled by this phenomenon, I sat up and glanced around the room again. Still, there was no cat in sight. Slowly, I rose to my feet and looked under the bed.

“Sammie, are you hiding under there?” I asked. “Come here, kitty.”

No cat under the bed either. The cat had been there before; I was certain of it.

After sliding my feet into my slippers, I left the room and stepped into the living room. The room was still deserted, except for Sam, the cat. He stared up at me with his big amber eyes, then he winked at me. I sat down next to him and stroked his black fur, whispering softly to him how pretty he was.

Shortly afterward, my friends came downstairs and I told them about the strange appearance of a cat in my room when the door was closed. Suddenly, one of them grinned, saying; “So you’ve seen her, too?”

“Her?” I asked, flabbergasted, because Sam was a male cat. I’m sure the amazement was clearly visible on my face.

“Yes,” he said. “Our other cat, the one that passed on about six weeks ago. She still haunts the house and enjoys toying with us.”

“But I didn’t see her,” I said. “I just felt a cat walking on my bed, and I heard purring.”

“That surely was her,” he said with a grin. “She likes to play pranks on an unsuspecting audience. Many times I have walked down the stairs and tripped over her, even though she is gone.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. What was he trying to tell me—a cat that was refusing to cross over to the other side? And at the same time I knew it was true, because I had felt her around me. I’d heard her purr, which was her way to communicate with the living.

“Are you absolutely certain it was her?” I asked.

“Sure sounds like it,” he said, smiling at me. Then, he walked to the bookshelves and picked up a book. “Here, read this book,” he said.

I looked at the book cover; it was black, and I read the bright purple letters: Pet Sematary by Stephen King.

“What are you trying to tell me?” I asked.

He grinned at me, “I’m sure you’ll enjoy the read now that you’ve experienced the presence of our resident ghost kitty. The book is about a cat that keeps on returning from the dead. In a way it reminds me of our cat.” The grin on his face turned into a gentle smile.

I took the book and, with Sam by my side, started to read. And as I read Stephen King’s words, I stroked Sam’s fur. Every now and again I looked down at him, and he winked up at me, almost as if he were trying to say, “See, I told you everything was going to be okay.”

Of course, I had believed in ghosts before. After all, there was one that stood by my side ever since I was twelve years old, protecting me from serious harm. But a phantom cat was something I’d never encountered before.

When I left my friends’ house a few days later, I knew this was one vacation I wasn’t going to forget. The phantom kitty enriched my life, and I am so thankful for that!