Having read many stories here about ghost animals, I thought I would share mine about my ghost cat. When I was a small child my parents and I lived with my grandfather in his house. It was a big Edwardian detached house in the south-east of England and had been in our family a while as it had been built by my great-grandfather.
When I was about two or three years old, I would always insist on my mother taking me up the stairs to bed with the lights off, because then I could see and talk to my friend, the black cat, sitting halfway up the stairs.
In my mind's eye, I can still see the cat now, just sitting there, looking at me with its green eyes shining in the dark, as cat's eyes do! If the lights were on, it wouldn't be there.
My grandfather died soon after, and my father inherited the house. My grandfather had had a cat called Monty, and when I no longer saw the cat on the stairs, I assumed Monty had died.
I continued living at the same house with my family until I left to go to college.
Many years later, I was talking to my mother about my childhood, and she told me that it really used to freak her out that I always wanted to go up to bed in the dark when I was little, but, being a good mother, she never told me that it had scared her.
I said I had only wanted to do it so I could see grandfather's black cat Monty on the stairs every night.
My mother looked shocked, and said grandfather's cat was a ginger, and had died three years before I was born, and there were no cats in the house when I was a small child!
Many other unexplained things happened while I lived there, but I will add them another time if anyone would like me to.
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