Augh. The night before last, a dream about my dead cat - that I had raised her from the dead with inappropriate bad-karma necromancy, for a briefly allotted time. In the dream, I alternated between cuddling her frantically and worrying about dispersing the gelatinous blood fetish-glob that was part of the spell. In the morning, I had the question:
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Of course it's not her. She's been dead nearly two years. We don't even live in the same place where she did.
Seeing her has become a part of me, though, and it catches me at the strangest times.
I don't know why there isn't more horror fiction about dead pets. You'd think after Stephen King wrote some there'd be more.
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This morning, I glimpsed a cat out of the corner of my eye, and...it was another neighborhood cat.
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Lying in bed, she flinched. There it was...cutting through the night...the undeniable "horrrrk, horrrrk, horrrk..." She swam up from the depths of sleep. Would she be in time to avert the worst?"
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I suspect your neighbor's cat is thinking of adding the newly vacated territory to his own. ;)
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Anyway I said that when I walk down our stairs I sometimes think I see my cat curled up on the meditation mat. In fact it was my husbands grey patterned meditation pillow.
No cats for us, as it would not be fair with us so much away, but it always does bring a smile to my face when it happens.
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