Clyde, the ghost cat

Because of a family member's allergies,  for about ten years, no animals (besides us) lived in our house.  Except for the occasional mouse, there were no animals we could see.  But even if we couldn't see it, something was there.  In the middle of the night it would jump up on the bed and walk around. Some times it would wake me by walking on my legs.  Whenever this happened, I'd turn on a light.  There was never anything visible.  I was never sure who it was but I never felt threatened.  And as weird experiences go, that one is pretty mild.  What is strange is that in many of the weird occurrences I've experienced involve cats.

The most recent happened last summer and involved Clyde. 

When Clyde was a kitten, I knew someone that wanted a cat with his coloring.  So while he was eating, I not so cleverly grabbed him.  Since he had no plans on going anywhere, he scratched the living daylights out of me.  I had to let the little hellcat go.  After that, traumatic experience, Clyde had no intentions of ever being grabbed again.  During feeding time, he always tried to keep an eye on my hands. Wary as he was of hands, he had no issues with walking into traps.  When I was catching females cats to have them spayed, what I kept catching was Clyde.  The fool couldn't stay out of the trap for five minutes.  To keep him occupied and out of the way, I finally sent him off to be neutered.

Clyde reigned as king of the outdoor cats for several years.  He loved the place and rarely wandered.  He had his own dish and a favorite feeding spot spot on the porch.  When Clyde was present, the other cats didn't dare trespass on his turf.


One morning last summer, Clyde didn't show up for breakfast.  This wasn't unusual.  All the outdoor cats occasionally miss a feeding.  On this particular morning, I stepped out to feed the cats.  As usual, they all ran up onto the porch.  But instead of eating, the other cats hackled up and shied away from Clyde's dish.  I finally had to move the dish away, before they would eat.  The whole time they were eating, they kept nervously looking towards Clyde's spot.  Their fear of Clyde's spot would continue for weeks. 

I finally figured out their problem.  Clyde was dead, but he didn't know that and kept showing up for food.   Even though I couldn't see him, the cats could and it scared the hell out of them.  And though Clyde had never been indoors, he kept coming in to visit.  Occasionally I'd see a blur race by.

I discovered Clyde lying at one of his favorite hanging out spots.  Because he was happy there, that's where he was buried.  Clyde hadn't wanted to leave.  All through the fall I could feel his mournful presence around the yard.  I haven't felt it lately.  Hopefully, he's moved on,