A few weeks ago I ran a column about a cat that appeared to be seeing ghosts, and I commented how I sometimes had felt my late cat jump on the bed and curl up next to me. Today, I’m running letters from folks who have had similar eerie experiences.
DEAR JOAN: Your letter from the man whose cat kept intensely watching the corners of the ceiling after his companion cat disappeared, made me think of something my Morris does frequently.
He sits on my lap every evening, sort of facing me at times. He will stare intently over my shoulder and his eyes widen as he becomes very still. I feel foolish, but every time, I look back and ask, “What do you see, Morris?”
Needless to say, he doesn’t tell me, he just keeps staring into the kitchen until I am convinced an ax murderer is tiptoeing ever closer to my back. It takes me 10 minutes for my heart rate to settle down while Morris then makes a turn on my lap and lies down for a nap.
What the heck are these cats looking at? Yikes! My dear little Hazel cat used to do the same when she lived with me so I am figuring it is a common cat trait, we just don’t know why they do it!
Jojy Smith, Antioch
DEAR JOAN: I was reading your column about sensing or feeling the spirit of a departed pet. I don’t have any experience personally but my husband did.
We lost our beloved black cat several years ago but still remember him fondly as our “Einstein” cat because he was so intelligent.
About a week after he died, my husband called to me from the other room. When I got there he had a strange look on his face and he said that he had just felt something rubbing around his legs and ankles like our cat used to do. When he looked down, there was nothing there.
It may just have been wishful thinking but I like to think that it was a final farewell from our best little buddy.
Maria Theren, Dublin
DEAR JOAN: I wanted to share my ghost story that I encountered when my dog passed away.
One time when my husband was in the bathroom, he swore he heard Oscar bark his very deep, loud bark in the living room only to find it was empty. Another time we both heard his nails clicking on the hardwood floors in the entry way and, of course, there was nothing there.
When Oscar was alive, he used to come in very early into the master bedroom and sigh very loudly to let me know he was up and hungry. When I heard it again, it really frightened me so I shouted, “Oscar, you’re scaring Mommy. Please wait for me in heaven.” After that, we never heard from him again.
Alice, Bay Area
DEAR JOAN: Suddenly there was a loud pounding on the door of my apartment at 9:10 p.m. and I leaped up from 3 feet away and flung open the door thinking it was my boyfriend in crisis. He lived about 45 miles away.
My cat, Mandy’s hair stood up all over — never saw her do that before or after, and her pupils dilated. There was no one in sight. How did they disappear in two seconds?
There was a cold chill and the night was not that cold. Mandy backed into the corner growling, hair still erect. There was a sweet smell of flowers. Mandy crouched, growling for nearly 5 minutes.
I felt the presence of my boyfriend’s mother and sensed her questioning me as to whether I would be loyal and loving to her son. Getting the answer she wanted — I would — everything, including Mandy, went back to normal.
The next morning my boyfriend called me deeply upset. His mother had died at 9:10 the night before.
