This happened when I was only (8) eight years old.
My bus driver's wife had a kitten and she wanted to get rid of it so she offered it to me first and of course I took the female kitten from her. Now this was the first cat that I can remember owning, she was a black and white cat and for some reason I gave her the name Dozier. She was a very sweet cat and she truly was mine because she was every where that I was.
Now we had several other cats and we had a problem with them getting into our attic, seemed like we could not keep them out so we decided to put up boards in the places that they were getting in through but Dozier would always find a way in. Now in my bed room there was a large rectangular hole in the corner of the ceiling: now Dozier had found this hole and we started playing with each other through this hole and I would feed her if I had any food in my room, she would stay there for hours and play with me.
We had this cat for maybe a year, we had her long enough for her to have a litter of kittens. About two weeks after her having her kittens my grandfather had found her dead in the road when we all had gone to the store. Instead of burying her he had just thrown her over the hill. When mom had finally decided to tell me that evening I was sad and depressed because that cat and I were so close and I couldn't believe that my grandfather didn't bury her.
Well we were left to care for her kittens. Days later after Dozier's death I was sitting in my bed room doing home work when suddenly I saw a black and white paw coming through the hole in my ceiling and not really thinking I was glad to see Dozier because my home work was getting on my nerves and I went to play with her. Now her death had completely slipped my mind and I was really playing with her and petting her then I turned to see if I had some food for her when suddenly it hit me that she was dead and I fell flat on the floor trying to get away from her and I busted my head on the floor but the pain didn't faze me. I looked back up at the hole and she was still there waiting for me to bring her something like she always did.
I went to my mother and asked her to go outside and call all of her cats on the porch then I had her to come in the bed room and she saw it to. This dead cat was still there. I was one terrified little girl then suddenly I had realized why she had came back to me, two reason for her return; one was to tell me good bye and the other one was that she was not at rest. The next day when I came home from school I went over the hill where my grandfather had thrown her and found what was left of her and I buried her in the hills and I never seen her again. So I put her soul to rest and she was satisfied and had no reason to come back.
Seeing a ghost is one thing but seeing one and touching one is something that you never forget. The reason that so many ghosts try to reach the living is because they want us to help them to reach the other side.
