LJ Idol, Week 6: Ghosts
If you ask me whether I believe in ghosts, I'll tell you it is complicated. Growing up, without any clear religious reference point left me without a vocabulary or firm grasp on certain things others take for granted. Things like faith, belief, and being able to answer a question like that. I grew up an atheist, converted to Catholicism in my early twenties and still don't quite know.
Ghosts are different from gods, but still difficult terrain to articulate.
Last year we adopted a rescue cat, an elderly kitty with a scar on one eye. Most people don't adopt older cats because of concerns about their health, but I knew the moment I saw his picture. Koshka came from a bad situation and any cat that was fourteen years old deserves to spend his time in comfort. Last week I fell hard for a big orange tabby at an adoption fair that was easily one of the biggest cats I've ever seen. He's only four and grew up feral but is the sweetest tempered fellow. Pumpkin likes to sit on the arm of my chair, preferably half on me and my laptop.
There is a third cat living with us, who has been with us even before Koshka and Pumpkin.
At times, I will be stretched out in bed to read or sleep. I'll feel the soft thump, the pressure on the mattress and hear the sounds of cat paws. Usually it is at the foot of the bed. One day this past August, it was at the head of the bed on the blanket and pillow behind me. It was more distinct than usual. When I look, there is never anything there. Mike has also felt it at times but never seen it. Neither of us have any strong opinions about the supernatural or the unusual. We didn't even mention it to each other until a couple months ago after it started happening in our new house. Before, it was easier to pass off as the strangeness of our terrible apartment with all its faulty pieces. But now, here, things are different and I can't help but feel those paws followed us. I know it was a cat.
I wonder who you are Ghost Kitty, and how you came to be with us.
Koshka is dying. He sits more and more, and eats less. I watch him and pet him, his fur still soft and fluffy over a thin body, listening to his rumbling purr. I wonder if he will join the Ghost Kitty. I would like to believe it will be two sets of paws on the blanket by my feet, a comfort to my sorrows.
Edit: 11/01/08 morning - Koshka passed away during the night. Thank you for all your kindness and support.
Ghosts are different from gods, but still difficult terrain to articulate.
Last year we adopted a rescue cat, an elderly kitty with a scar on one eye. Most people don't adopt older cats because of concerns about their health, but I knew the moment I saw his picture. Koshka came from a bad situation and any cat that was fourteen years old deserves to spend his time in comfort. Last week I fell hard for a big orange tabby at an adoption fair that was easily one of the biggest cats I've ever seen. He's only four and grew up feral but is the sweetest tempered fellow. Pumpkin likes to sit on the arm of my chair, preferably half on me and my laptop.
There is a third cat living with us, who has been with us even before Koshka and Pumpkin.
At times, I will be stretched out in bed to read or sleep. I'll feel the soft thump, the pressure on the mattress and hear the sounds of cat paws. Usually it is at the foot of the bed. One day this past August, it was at the head of the bed on the blanket and pillow behind me. It was more distinct than usual. When I look, there is never anything there. Mike has also felt it at times but never seen it. Neither of us have any strong opinions about the supernatural or the unusual. We didn't even mention it to each other until a couple months ago after it started happening in our new house. Before, it was easier to pass off as the strangeness of our terrible apartment with all its faulty pieces. But now, here, things are different and I can't help but feel those paws followed us. I know it was a cat.
I wonder who you are Ghost Kitty, and how you came to be with us.
Koshka is dying. He sits more and more, and eats less. I watch him and pet him, his fur still soft and fluffy over a thin body, listening to his rumbling purr. I wonder if he will join the Ghost Kitty. I would like to believe it will be two sets of paws on the blanket by my feet, a comfort to my sorrows.
Edit: 11/01/08 morning - Koshka passed away during the night. Thank you for all your kindness and support.