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Story #299 I Have A Ghost Cat.

He is funny and he likes to play in the night; waking me by playing with a bell ball, that he totally ignored when he was alive. Now that he is a ghost, he loves to roll it around and ring the foolish thing when I am trying to sleep. I don't mind that so much, but well, I did get rid of the litter box, so I guess I can't blame him for not using it, but I wish he'd go and relieve himself in the other room. Being awakened by the smell of cat poop in the night, when there is NO CAT in the apartment, is just rude. Ah, but, I love him still, and when I feel that little paw touching my neck looking for the pulse he couldn't sleep without, I feel he is not really gone. He is still around.
Serenitree Serenitree 70+, F 3 Responses Dec 10, 2011

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Lol!!!

Indeed.

My 17 year old Emily cat was put down in June of this year. I still think of her every day and miss her greeting me at the door when I come home. I miss her sleeping on my side and on my pillow at night and I miss giving her "Momma-bird" food during dinner. She was missing several teeth so I chewed up food for her and gave it to her. It was a bonding experience. Lol. You gotta be an old kitty lover to understand this.



The first month after her passing, I heard her meow several times. It was so strange.

I still hear Toulouse, too. And Free, occasionally, even though he has been gone a year and a half. Are they still here? or do we just miss them so much our minds provide the memories. I think they never really leave. I lost Treasure back in 2002, but I still sometimes feel her lying on my kegs when I am in bed. But I look and there is nothing there, However, I can feel the weight and the warmth.

*legs......LOL not kegs

Like this story! :) He just couldnt leave you.

Either he can't leave me, or I miss him so much I am even missing his poopie smells. LOL. He was the last in a long line of cats, and I don't think I am going to get another. At one time, he was one of five that I had. The rest either got old and died or sickened and died, but the end result was that he was the one remaining. And when there was just the two of us, we became best friends. He even started trying to say words. He said something very close to water. Often said Mama. He said that one time, when my granddaughter was here with her little girl and the child looked at him and laughed, saying, "That's not your mama, that's my mama." Then, pointing to me, she said "There's your mama, over there."