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Bathory's cat ghost story for Angels & Ghosts!

I work in a nursing home, and have had a few odd experiences there. 
Nothing, however, beats the "3/4 cat," as I call him.

















I had a very nice little Greek granny that I took care of on a regular basis. Her and her roommate were both dyed-in-the-wool cat lovers, and they each had a stuffed cat that they COULD NOT go to sleep without.  If either stuffed kitty was missing, a frantic search went on until they were found or there would be no bedtime for either of the ladies, as one would stay awake to comfort the other as she lay crying, missing her stuffed kitty.






Those ladies thought they were real cats, so I made sure to keep a hawk eye on the whereabouts of those two critters. Could you pawn off a substitute to either of them? No way, Jose. Each lady knew her own stuffed kitty like the back of her own hand.







My sweet Greek granny would often tell me tales of Greece, and I would raptly listen to her as she described in detail how her life was when she was young, and also to everything in between. She would often clasp my face between her hands and call me "her sweet granddaughter" in Greek, even though she knew I wasn't her blood relative. She and I bonded, and I couldn't wait to see her merry face at the 









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beginning of my shift.

There came a day when she began to fail, and I realized that within a week or two, I'd probably lose her. It might be hard for families to understand, but caretakers can get just as attached to their family members as they are, and when that attachment comes, it often tears our hearts out when we lose one of our "special" patients. I spent as much time with her as I reasonably could without short-changing my other patients.

One evening, I found myself with a half-hour lunch break, and didn't want to spend it anywhere but with her. She was unaware of my presence as she was very near the end of her time on this earth. I sat down in her wheelchair at the end of her bed, and just watched her breathe; marveling at every crease and line on her face. Her hands, twisted with rheumatoid arthritis, reminded me of gnarled old oak trees with many tales to tell.

I sat there simply watching her, glorying privately in the tales of her life. Out of the corner of my eye, to my right side, I noticed movement. In my peripheral vision I saw 3/4ths of an orange and white cat, coming toward me in mid-stride. It was missing most of its left hind leg, and the top third of its tail. What you must understand was that this was not a living cat missing part of its body; this was a ghost cat that wasn't all the way in this plane.

As I turned to fully look at the cat, it of course disappeared. It seems that while my mind was functioning in a different way, musing about my Greek granny, it allowed me to get a glimpse of part of another world. I certainly did not expect this to happen, as I had never before seen the ghost of an animal.

I quietly left her room, and told my co-workers what I had just seen. They gave me that "woo-woo" look they always do when I tell them something I've experienced; but they also know that I'm not lying.

My Greek granny died two days after I saw the cat. Perhaps it was a beloved pet, coming to escort her home. I feel as though she, and her wonderful kitty gave me a gift beyond measure.

I thank you, Ya Ya.....and I miss you so very much.




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