Living Vegan In Charlotte, NC

Ghost Story, Part IV – A Little Night Music

tiger on computer 2

So Prince Harry Pumpkin and Baby Maggie Firsee are careful cats. They don’t push or break things. They delicately walk around objects.

Occasionally, Baby Maggie Firsee is clumsy – but if she has an accident, it’s clearly an accident, and she’s embarrassed by it.

While Prince Harry Pumpkin – despite his size – is like a little ghost panther. He even strolled through my china cabinet once, through all the china and crystal and figurines, breaking – nothing, displacing – nothing.

Tiger, however, was a little grey steamroller. He believed the shortest distance between two points was a straight line, and he didn’t care what he pushed out of his way or stepped on to get there.

Like my laptops.

My Facebook friends were all aware I sometimes posted things like arjoaltjuao ufsod adfojfaodf udos or sent weird private messages reading attttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt.

That was Tiger, walking across my keyboard (or often, napping on it)

He even made an Amazon purchase for me once. (Afterwards, I quickly shut down one-click ordering!)

Tiger also, in walking across or plopping down to sleep on my keyboard, often startled me by setting off my itunes playlist or starting up Youtube videos.


About three weeks after Tiger died, we were all sleeping, in more or less a big, random huddle on my bed.

By “we,” I mean Scruffy was cuddled in my arms, Prince Harry was cuddled up on the other side, (actually even touching me now and then if he got chilly) and Baby Maggie Firsee was at the foot of my bed – just beyond petting distance, but still close to my toes if she woke up in the night with a fierce need to bite them.

And… suddenly … there was this loud noise that woke us all up!



Scruffy starts barking.

And then the loud voices …

Loud male voices!



I lay in bed, petrified, trying to make out the words.


Then, just when I’m about to call 911, I realize it’s a song …  Bruno Mars’ Uptown Funk. And it’s coming from the living room, which is where I’d left my laptop that evening before bed.

I drop my phone, roll over in bed, and start to laugh. “Oh, Tiiiiger!”

tiger on computer

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