003 - Pets From The Other Side

​We all love our pets. Our dogs and cats are as much of a part of our family as any human is. There's a special bond between pets and people. And when our four legged friends pass away, we mourn their loss, just like a member of the family. And just like family, even in the afterlife, pets can have a way of reminding us that they're still here.

I'm Tom Stewart and this is My Paranormal Story.

Keeping animals as pets has been a part of human culture going back thousands of years. Dogs and cats especially have become loving parts of so many families worldwide. And when our beloved pets pass away, it's devastating. It takes days, weeks, even months to get over their loss. Some would say you'd never get over it. But are they really gone? Or do their spirits linger in our homes and in our lives, reaching out to us to remind us that they'll always be there? I've had two pets over the years. A cat named Cleo when I was younger and a dog named Saki, who I had later in life.

Cleo was an orange and white cat that my family adopted when I was about 12 or 13 years old. A friend of the family had a cat with new kittens and we decided to take one. Cleo and I bonded because we both basically grew up together. We were like brothers in a way, I was an only child, so Cleo and I would end up playing and fighting. He was a smart cat. I taught him tricks just like you would a dog and he knew basic words and commands. And he could fetch better than most dogs too. He even had different meows and sounds he would make that only I understood. We had a strong connection. As I grew older and eventually moved out on my own, I took Cleo with me. I was glad I did too, because living alone would have been a lot harder without him. Cleo and I went through a lot of hard times together both financially and emotionally. We lived in a lot of tiny, crappy little apartments together. Though he never seemed to mind. As long as he had treats and could sleep next to me every night. And he did, every night ever since he was a kitten. He'd be right by my feet or up against my legs sleeping. Protecting me maybe? And he was pretty protective over me. Anytime someone came over male or female, he made sure that person knew he was in charge. And he was intimidating too. He was a pretty big cat and I don't mean fat either. I mean he was BIG. He weighed at least 25 pounds and had a huge frame. His tail alone was more than 12 inches long. As time went on, though, Cleo got older. He was probably about 18 or 19 years old when he took sick. One day I noticed he wasn't eating his food anymore, which wasn't like him. He loved to eat. And it was obvious he wasn't feeling well either. Aside from not eating, he was basically lethargic, kept laying on his belly on the kitchen floor, which was an odd spot for him. It was almost as if the cold floor felt good. I was hoping it would be something that would pass, but after a few days I got worried. So I made an appointment with the vet. Then the night before, Cleo had a seizure. And it scared the hell out of me. He was in the kitchen, sort of walking funny when suddenly his legs just completely came out from under him. He was just laying there on the kitchen floor with all four legs spread out, making a loud cry I'd never heard him make before. He laid there for a couple of minutes, breathing heavy. But eventually gathered himself and was able to get up and walk again. But he just wasn't right. I took him to the vet first thing in the morning and I was a nervous wreck. I sat in the waiting room for what seemed like an eternity. And then the vet gave me the bad news. Cleo had stomach cancer and it was pretty bad. They gave me options like chemotherapy and medications, but nothing that I could afford. And at his age they said it might extend his life maybe another few months if I was lucky. They recommended I put him to sleep in. That's when I lost it. I'm not ashamed to say I was a grown man bawling my eyes out over a cat. I asked the vet if there was anything they could do something to allow me to take him home for one more night and I think they could see in my eyes that I wasn't leaving without him. I couldn't bear the thought of him spending his final moments on some cold silver table at an Animal Hospital. So, they gave him some fluids and hydrated him and told me that if he got worse or he seemed like he was in pain, that I should definitely bring him back. So I brought him home and he seemed to be pain free. Which made me feel better. He even ate a few bites of dry food from my hand. I wrapped him up in a blanket on the rug in the living room for the night. It was one of his favorite spots because the Sun would shine in on that spot in the mornings and he used to like laying there. Part of me was hoping for some sort of miracle during the night. I'd wake up and he'd be waiting for me, ready to play fetch. But realistically, I knew the best I could hope for was for him to pass away quietly at home. I went to bed and did my best to sleep, trying not to think about what tomorrow would bring. And then at one point during the night I suddenly woke up and looked down at the foot of the bed. And there was Cleo. Lying up against my legs like he always did. I couldn't believe it. Was this the miracle I was hoping for? I mean, earlier that day he could barely walk, he'd barely eaten anything for days. How did he get the strength to walk across the house and climb up onto my bed? I didn't care though. I was so happy. He looked up at me as I pet him on the head and we both went back to sleep. The next morning when I woke up he was gone. I went into the living room and he was still lying in the same spot I had left him in the night before. Still wrapped up in that same blanket with the warm sun from the window on him. He couldn't have wrapped himself back up in that blanket, could he? When I checked on him a little closer, it looked like he wasn't breathing. In fact, he wasn't moving at all. His body was limp like a stuffed animal. But if he'd been in this spot the whole night, how did I see him in my bed? Did I imagine it? Was it a dream? Or was it something else? There are some people who believe in a phenomenon called crisis apparition. It's when the spirit of someone shows itself to a friend or a family member right around the same time as their passing. It's almost as if they're saying goodbye or spending one final moment with someone they cared about the most. I know if Cleo could have been anywhere during his last moments it would have been right there by my feet. Protecting me.

After Cleo passed away, it was a long time before I got another pet. Part of me. Just didn't want to go through that heartbreak ever again. But eventually, as I got older, I ended up getting a dog. I always wanted a dog, but I didn't live in too many places that allowed dogs. And with my crazy lifestyle of working all sorts of different hours, I never felt it would be fair of me to have a dog. You know, cats are great. They're so independent they'll just sit around the house all day while you're at work. But dogs, they want to play and go for walks. They need more attention. But one day I did it. I finally decided I'm getting a dog. But that one day ended up being two years before I actually got one. I made sure to do lots of research, so that I found the right breed for me. And I wanted to adopt from a shelter too. So I spent a long time looking at websites and visiting shelters, looking for specific breeds. I specifically wanted a Shiba Inu. Shibas are the smallest of the Spitz breed of dog. They're Japanese. Small to medium sized dogs that were bred mostly for hunting birds and small animals. They have pointy ears like a fox and a tail that curls forward over their back. And they have a face that always looks like they're smiling. And I chose Shiba Inu because the very independent dogs. Kind of like cats. They don't mind being stuck in the house while you're at work. And they're naturally house trained and a very clean breed. They also don't bark much either. Plus, they're super smart. They aren't easy to find at shelters. There were a few that I spotted listed on pet finding websites, but every time I'd call or visit they'd already be gone. But then one day I spotted one on a website from a shelter in Quincy, Massachusetts. It was probably a good hour or more drive from where I was living in Rhode Island, but it was worth it if he was available. I called the shelter and they said that one person had already called about him and were coming down that morning to look at him. But if they didn't show up I could take him. So I drove to the shelter that morning and got there as soon as they opened. And that's when I met Saki for the first time. As soon as I saw him I wanted him. He was actually a mixed breed of Shiba Inu and German Shepherd. He had the body and mannerisms of a shiba, but the coat of a German Shepherd. Very handsome. They had received him as a stray. Someone spotted him on a main road near traffic. He didn't have any tags or a collar, so they brought him to the shelter. He also didn't have one of those microchips either, so they had no idea who his owner would be. The vets checked him out I guess, and he was healthy and when no one came looking for him they eventually put him up for adoption. Their best guess was that he was three or four years old. They let me take him for a walk around the building and I played with him in the courtyard. I grabbed one of the dog toys and threw it and he immediately took off after it, grabbed it and brought it right back to me. After about an hour, the other people hadn't showed up. And the shelter could tell Saki and I were meant to be together. I filled out the paperwork and next thing I knew Saki was heading home with me. He sat there in the car, perfectly behaved the whole ride home. He didn't seem nervous at all. But I was. I'd never owned a dog before. And all I could do was wonder if I was going to be able to handle the responsibility. Saki and I quickly became best friends. He was smart, loyal, and funny. He had this way of smiling too, almost like a human. And for many years he was there for me more than any human was. People often say their pet is their best friend. But Saki truly was mine. I mean, from job losses to break-ups and bouts of depression. He helped me through so much. We moved around a lot too, but he always adjusted well as long as he had his treats and a toy to fetch. He was a great fetcher too. He had a ton of toys, but his favorite one was his chicken. It was this weird looking yellow dog toy that looked a chicken. And he would squeak it so loud. I'd throw it down the hallway as far as I could and he'd go racing after it. Pick it up in his mouth and proudly trot back with it,. squeaking the hell out of it all the way. It was like he was showing off with every squeak. He loved that stupid chicken.

After about five years together, we settled into a basement apartment in Cranston, Rhode Island. Being eight or nine years old now, I discovered that Saki was having some leg issues. His legs would often stiffen up on him. And sometimes he would walk around with a limp. The vet said it looked like it was an injury from years ago that had never been treated, a broken hip or leg. He still got around though. And on good days he would still fetch like a champ. But things like stairs were getting to be too much for him. So this basement apartment was perfect because it had a sliding glass door that led right into the backyard.

Every night when I would go to bed, Saki would be right there with me. He didn't sleep in my bed though. He had a favorite blanket on the floor at the foot of the bed. But before going to sleep every night, Saki would come up to the side of the bed for his nightly treat. I used to keep a bag of his favorite cookies in the night stand. And every night like clockwork he'd be right there waiting for one. Then he would turn around and make his way over to his blanket. The bedroom was small though. There wasn't a lot of room between the bed and the wall and the closet door. So when Saki would try to turn around to make his way to his blanket, he would always bump into the closet door and it would make sort of a thumping sound as he turned around. It was actually kind of funny to watch. But he always somehow managed to make the turn. And then he would plop down on his blanket, shaking the whole bed as he laid up against the box spring. But gradually, as time went on, Saki's health started to fail more. I noticed he was drinking more water than normal and he couldn't control his bladder at times. Walking was becoming more and more difficult too. I noticed he was panting a lot and sometimes he would whine a little bit as if he was in pain. I wasn't sure if it was his legs or something else. I took him to the vet and they ran test after test trying to find out what was wrong. In the meantime he kept getting worse. He was definitely in a lot of pain. Eventually the vet said it was something called Cushings Disease. We tried many different medicines, but none of them seemed to help. Some of them seemed like it made it worse. I was a wreck worrying about him every day. Then one night he was laying on his favorite blanket, crying and whining. He was breathing heavy and panting. I could just tell he was in so much pain. I did everything I could to comfort him. I spent the entire night lying on that floor next to him. In the morning, he wasn't doing any better. He hadn't eaten or drank anything for awhile at this point, and I knew I had no choice. I called the vet and immediately brought him in. And they agreed that he was suffering and that there wasn't much else we could do. I had to put him down. When I say that was the saddest thing I've ever done in my life, it's not an exaggeration. I sat there on the floor in the vet room as they gave him the injections. I held him and reminded him over and over again that I loved him as he slowly faded away in my arms.

The next day I knew I had to get rid of all his stuff if I was going to move on. I threw out his blanket bed and donated his leftover food and toys to a local shelter except the chicken. For some reason I just couldn't get rid of that stupid thing. I set it up on a shelf next to his picture. The next few nights I hardly slept. I would just lay there in bed crying. I missed him so much. And I felt so much guilt. Like maybe I had let him suffer for too long. Or maybe there was more I could have done for him. My apartment was so quiet and empty now. But then one night I was laying in bed reading when I heard a strange noise. It was kind of a thump. The same thump I used to hear when Saki would bump into the closet door, while turning around. The next night I heard it again. For like a week straight every night when I would go to bed I would lay there and I'd wait for it. Thump, thump. Could this be Saki letting me know he's still there? One night after I heard the thump, I swear I felt the bed shake right after too. As if he had just laid up against it. Part of me thought it was just my imagination, but another part of me wanted to believe that Saki was still with me. Then one night he confirmed it. I was laying in bed and I heard a noise coming from the living room. And I swear to you, I heard it as clear as day.

[SFX - squeaking sound]
 
It was the chicken.
 
My Paranormal Story is written, produced and narrated by me Tom Stewart. Music from this episode, courtesy of Kevin Macleod at incompetech.com. My Paranormal Story is based on real life stories experienced by me. I put out new stories every Wednesday so please subscribe or follow me for updates on Facebook or Instagram. Just search for my paranormal story. Please feel free to leave feedback or comments about any of my stories, or if you want, tell me your story, I'd love to hear it. You can e-mail me too at my paranormal [email protected]. Thanks for listening. I'm Tom Stewart and this is my paranormal story.