Furbaby

Every night she goes to bed alone, sometimes there is a tear which she dabs away before cleaning her face in the bathroom. Then she switched the light out and goes back to the bedroom and slips under the duvet, sometimes switching on the electric blanket.

She loves being in bed, it is her palace of dreams, where she is always happy because she is with friends and creatures who she knows love her so much, and she loves them too. Her head on the pillow she put “Thursday Afternoon” by Brian Eno on her player to help her sleep, and that piece always relaxes her, she was drifting towards the realms of Morpheus like every night of her life.

She is dreaming.

There is a purring and she feels fur against her face, but she is fine with that, it is just her cat Minnie coming and giving her some feline love. This happens a lot and she loves the feeling of being loved even if it is just her pet cat, but she loves the warmth and love that Minnie gives her and she strokes Minnie making her purr even more.

Is this real, or is this a dream? It feels real, but she is asleep so she knows it is really a dream, her sheets and duvet keeping her warm as is the furbaby sharing her bed with her. She is happy.

She wakes.

She needs to pee.

She is alone in bed, no cat with her. She gets up goes to the bathroom and feels relief as she lets go on the toilet. She wipes herself, then washed her hands and washes her face once more, but not enough to wake her up properly.

Once more she slips under the duvet, still warm from her previous sleep, she then realises the CD has finished, so she gets out of bed and sets it to play on repeat. This will send her back to sleep, she is sure of that.

Drifting again, and the loving purring comes once more, and she feels fur against her skin, making her feel even warmer. Minnie has returned to love and comfort her and though she is dreaming she is happy, then Minnie decides to sit on her chest, on top of the duvet but it is making breathing a bit harder, but she is OK, she loves her cat.

She slips into her dreams.

Six AM the alarm is going off, she drags herself reluctantly for her bed and notices her arms are covered in scratches, from cat claws.

Then it hits her.

She doesn’t have a cat, not anymore.

Minnie died a year ago hit by a car, the driver was distraught, it was just an accident, but Minnie’s body was taken to the vet to be cremated and her ashes were in an urn at the bottom of the garden where she used to sun herself.

But those scratches

Minnie used to scratch her when they played together and she wasn’t sure if that happened in her dream, but these were definitely cat scratches on her arms. It was like Minnie was back, but she was in her urn at the bottom of the garden.

Was this her ghost?

She wasn’t threatened and her spirits lifted when she became sure that the spirit of her departed moggie seemed to be back with her.

Of course, no one would believe and would explain away the cat scratches as self-inflicted wounds, but she knew better. The spirit of Minnie had returned and that made her very happy. She had a ghost cat.