Last night marked the third or fourth time that I have had a visitor in my room and who jumped on my bed and walked around. Last night I was awake, in fact, I had just gotten into bed. The visitor always is around the foot of the bed, I can feel it jump lightly up, take a few steps and then it's gone. I wish that I could say that I am making this up but I'm not; I truly believe one of my deceased cats has come home. Maybe it is Samantha, who was always the demanding one wanting to be loved, or it could be Elvis, the big gray longhair who was a bit skittish. It could be Trouble or Little Bit or Serena but probably not Serena because she was almost feral.
Maybe they have come back looking for their skull that is kept in my curio cabinet, or maybe they finally realize that they can jump on my bed any time they want without being shooed off. I see fleeting shadows often in the house, something running from room to room, about the size of a cat, maybe they want to check up on everyone.
Or maybe they just want to say hello.