My Black Cats: The Phantom Cat Part II

One night, right before I nodded to sleep in my dark bedroom, I was closing my eyes. Then all of the sudden, I felt a movement at the bottom of bed. At first, because I was so sleepy, I figured it was just my cat, coming up to lay next to my legs. My eyes remained closed, paralyzed with fear, when I realized, that I did not have a cat anymore! With in the seconds of coming to the realization, I opened my eyes, and looked down towards the spot, that had a slight round depression there. This happened time and time again, after the first time, through a period of six years. Jason eventually bore witness to this phenomenon, but after a few times, it wasn't so strange, it felt natural.
The phantom cat never visited us when we had other cats in the house, and it only happened severval times, not every night. Then it stopped. The last time I noticed it, was when we had lived in Columbus, Ohio. I oftened wondered if it was my beloved fat black cat, Bear. My cat Bear, I had before Spooky, Salem, and Freighty. He was truly mine, since the day I noticed him in a Juneau pet store, there was a sign on the cage that said, "sold, to Terri Hale", my mother. He slept with me every night, though he was heavy and restricting against my legs, it was very comforting. Well, Bear was a strange cat indeed, he had long black fur, and he loved to lay on his back and get his belly rubbed. He often loved to lay on the stairs, taking up the whole step, trusting people to walk over him. He also had a familer strange low howl he used, instead of meowing for something. He was afraid of the light in the day, he would ask to go out at dusk, and sometimes late at night, he would cry at my window. What a smart cat, I thought. He even was caught on the roof of our porch, one time in the night, and I went outside, held up my arms, and after a few tries, he jumped down on me. But not without a little scratch or two.
The reason why I believe that my phantom cat was him was because he met a untimely, aweful death! We moved from Alaska, to Utah, and then to Wyoming, and he was my loyal favorite pet during that whole time. He was the greastest to me, but he got a urine infection in his last few months before he disappeared. So, he peed on the all the dirty laundry in the basement. My dad was beside himself with hatered for my animal. We took him to the vet, and they gave in medication. But my dad wasn't convinced he was cured. Well, in 1993, Jason and I got married, and then moved into our own apartment. I missed Bear, but he belonged to the rest of the family too. So then in October, weeks before we were all going to make the big move to Ohio, Bear suddenly disappeared! My mom and I drove all around for days looking for him. I checked the shelter and the sides of the road. Where my parent's house sat, it was on top of a hill, which had empty, plain, dirt lots across from it. Days later, I have given up hope finding him, my mom accused my dad of taking him on a long trip far away. But he lied and said, he had no idea where he was. Then when I was walking around outside in the bright sun, I saw him!
Poor kitty! I ran down to the dirt area where he was, he didn't run away from me or howl to me, like he would usually do. I picked him up and kissed him, and carried him home. He looked just the same, but he had no personality. He didn't cry, or try to escape, at home, he even went and laid on his stair like he always did. When my dad came home from work, he insisted that it wasn't him. But he didn't say why. That night my mom let him out and he disappeared again. We searched for him but had no luck. So then we ended up moving with out him.
My dad a few years later confessed to Bear's disappearance, to Jason. He told him how he hated black cats, ever since he was attacked by one in a barn when he was younger. He told Jason what really happened to Bear, and how it was completely impossible that he could come back, to life! He couldn't figure it out, where that cat came from, he thought he was cursed and if the cat hadn't taken off that night, he would have gotten rid of it too. It took me a few years to forgive my father for what he did, and now he feels bad about it. Maybe the phantom cat should have paid him a visit in the night, that would had been funny!