After over five years, I finally had an opportunity to take one entire week off work. A WHOLE week to eliminate two inches of dust bunnies and six inches of accumulated cat fur throughout the apartment and computer keyboard and three feet of paperwork from multiple surfaces; leisurely walks and photo sessions; and LOTS of mystery novels to read and NOT reluctantly bookmark when self-imposed curfew arrived.

Not having any work, ergo any income, for a week in the middle of a recession is not good – but neither is not having a week off in over five years! So I didn’t want any jobs that week – not even a quickie visit with an undemanding goldfish. Not that I’ve ever met a “demanding” goldfish…

When I received a call from a potential new client, I prayed that she was calling well in advance and wouldn’t need me until at least the following week. Or her location was way outside my service area and I could in good conscience refer her to someone else. The Universe apparently did not want me to have a vacation – and has a twisted sense of humor to boot! During what developed into a hectic week, I was called on to take a few sick rescue cats to the vet; a friend and client bedridden by a nasty bout of flu needed my help; I received numerous calls and emails from folks who needed some help/advice with various cat-related issues… And then there was Isabelle.

Michela (name changed to protect the eccentric and pseudonym suggested by The Raz, senior cat of The Fab Five. It’s his thing, coming up with unusual names when I don’t wish to use someone’s REAL name – though he never explains his choices, much to my frustration and his amusement) wanted me to stop by and visit her cat Isabelle once a day for three days – yep, during my vacation week. She said the last time she left Isabelle alone that long, the poor dear was very agitated and upset. Made sense to me – even with big automatic water and dry food dispensers and several clean litter boxes, a single cat used to daily human companionship could very well be depressed at finding herself alone that long.

Before I continue, let me state that “unusual” pet sitting jobs are rather par for the course with me. The average number of household pets is between one and four tame animals. For whatever cosmic reason, my business attracts households with tame, semi-feral, and feral cats, numbering four to eighty. I consider signing on a client with ONE cat a rare blessing, while never blinking an eye when someone tentatively says “I, uh, have ten?” as if expecting instant rejection. In my world, ten’s a piece of cake.

When Michela stated somewhat desperately that she’d been having a difficult time finding anyone to come visit with Isabelle, alarm signals immediately went off in my head. Attack cat? Would I need to get a tetanus shot before taking this on? I hate shots, avoid them like the plague, and if a mauling was likely, the conversation would have ended right then and there. I did NOT want to work during my so-called vacation at all and I certainly didn’t want to get ripped to shreds doing it!

“No, no” Michela assured me, “Isabelle is no trouble at all. She’s a ghost kitty”. Okay, I’ve had a few cats described that way – timid cats who don’t trust or like anyone but their own person and stay hidden or only briefly glimpsed from a distance during a visit. Actually, “ghost kitties” are the easiest – if rather unfulfilling for a cat lover - to sit for. They don’t WANT any attention or a new friend –“You, Pet Sitter, just put out my food, water, clean my box, then go away and leave me alone”. So, what was the problem here?

I ran through my business spiel – rates, contract, arranging to come out and meet the cat and her person and go over Isabelle’s needs; be shown where everything is located, etc… “Oh no hon, Isabelle won’t require any food or water and doesn’t need a litter box. I’m not sure she’ll show up to meet you though,” Michela added doubtfully. So, I assumed a cat who only ate dry food with large food and water dispensers, but didn’t get the part about the litter box. “Does she go outside then to take care of business?” I asked. An indoor/outdoor cat who won’t come to strangers – and therefore probably won’t come when called by a stranger to return indoors – that’s a problem!

“Oh, no, hon (Michela was one of those folks who calls everyone “hon” – it’s a Maryland thing), she doesn’t have any 'business' to take care of. I told you, she’s a GHOST kitty”. Ooookaaay… This was a bit weird, even by my standards. Feeling my way cautiously, I asked “You mean Isabelle is not a LIVE cat?” “That’s right, hon!” Michela replied, obviously pleased that the dense pet sitter had finally caught on, “She’s a ghost – a spirit, if you will”.

Michela sounded sane and I don’t know anyone who would pull such an elaborate practical joke. So, I arranged a meeting with at least Michela, if not the ectoplasmic Isabelle, too intrigued by now NOT to! What the hell, I’d never pet sat for an honest-to-goodness ghost cat before.

The house was a modest, older rancher on a miniscule plot of land – nothing “Aadams Family” about it at all. Michela was a plump, attractive lady somewhere in her 70’s, with pure white thick fluffy hair (reminded me of a white Persian cat without the pushed-in nose), a charming smile, and casual air. Coincidentally, like me, she, too, is an avid animal photographer and showed me many framed pictures of past cats and dogs in her life. Trying to sound casual, as if this was a question I normally ask at new client meetings, I asked if Isabelle was one of the photographed cats from her past. “Oh no, hon” she replied cheerfully, “I never saw her before until she showed up here about six months ago”.

“She usually materializes on top of the television” Michela told me. Naturally, I HAD to look, but saw nothing. Not that I expected to – well, not really – I don’t think… “She follows me around the house as I do my chores, but don’t feel badly if she chooses not to reveal herself to you – she’s wary of appearing to strangers”. Yeah, if I was a ghost, I’d be pretty selective about that, too.

So, aside from the gazillion questions and doubts I had, it made sense – inasmuch as anything here made sense - to focus on just WHY I was needed here. “Well, you see, hon, Isabelle is used to my company now and I talk to her a lot. I just need you to stop by and chat with her a bit, maybe read to her a little – she likes that”. Okay, so I’m being paid to visit a spirit cat with a taste for literature. “She likes poetry” Michela told me, “I’ll leave some of her favorite books out for you”.

In many ways it was a perfectly normal new client meeting. I got a tour of the small house, we signed the contract (no need to sign the Emergency Medical Release Authorization form); Michela paid me in cash; I accepted a key to the house and wrote down the alarm code (why bother with an alarm system when a ghost cat would surely scare the bejeebies out of any potential intruder?).

For three days, I faithfully fulfilled my duties (hey, I was being PAID to do this!) – talking out loud to a cat I couldn’t see and wasn’t at all sure I even believed in, sitting on the floor near the tv reading poetry. Frost, Bronte, e.e. cummings… Eclectic cat, Miss Isabelle. Did I feel silly? Sure – but a job’s a job and no harm done, right? And what the hey, I enjoyed the poetry- a nice little break from the “real” work I was doing on my so-called vacation!

Having had some training in Reiki, I tried to connect to the invisible cat, still not convinced she wasn’t just a figment of Michela’s imagination. Or was Michela certifiably bonkers (sorry - “mentally challenged”)? Or did Isabelle really exist on some plane I simply couldn’t see but Michela could? As I was closing the front door behind me on the last day, I looked back – and maybe, BIG, HUGE MAYBE, caught a fleeting glimpse of a large, dilute long-haired Calico on top of the tv set. Needless to say, I have no pictures for this article…

I have a very open mind and have experienced many peculiar, unexplainable things in my life, so do not instantly reject ANY possibility. Michela is a retired nurse – educated in scientific facts – not the sort you’d expect to believe in the paranormal. Yet, she truly seemed to believe in Isabelle’s existence in her life. Was Michela just enjoying a good jest at my expense and entertaining her friends with how she pulled a good one over on a naïve pet sitter? Does she really believe in Isabelle’s existence, or is she just an eccentric with enough money to indulge her fantasies – one who WANTS to believe?

And yet – I never asked beforehand what Isabelle looked like. Well, why would I when I had more reason to be skeptical of her existence than otherwise? Michela checked in with me to let me know she was home and said Isabelle seemed very content and relaxed. THEN, tentatively, I asked Michela to describe Isabelle. “Well, hon, she’s a rather large, dilute long haired calico girl. Oh my, did she actually appear for you?” Michela seemed delighted at that prospect. I mumbled something unintelligible that could have been taken as yes, no, maybe, or I have a headache.

Do I believe in the paranormal – yes. Did I really see a ghost kitty? Honestly, I don’t know. Will I pet sit again for Isabelle if asked (assuming she doesn’t move on to haunt someone else)? Absolutely! Maybe I’ll try some Maya Angelou on her – I think she’d enjoy that. Will I add to my resume “Ghost Sitter” – absolutely NOT! Will I plan any more vacations? Absolutely – in Siberia!

Visit The Fab Five and diana at http://www.geocities.com/newagecatcare. diana is a pet sitter in Carroll County, MD; Vice President of the Howard County Cat Club, a 501(c)(3) non-profit, no-kill cat rescue/adoption agency http://www.howardcountycatclub.org; freelance pet photographer, and Catnip Chronicles columnist and consultant.

While ghost/spirit/angel kitties – or figments of our imagination - no longer require our more mundane earthbound care such as food and water, there are many in THIS world who do! Please help out any way, no matter how small, that you can. One can of cat food delivered to a feral caregiver or a cat owner or shelter in financial distress in your neighborhood is one can of food they don’t have to scrounge money to buy! Everyone in a community giving one can, could add up to a lot! One person, in one community, starting a campaign to get ONE can from many people – could save many lives and keep pets from being abandoned or given up to shelters or going hungry. ONE can can cost as little as 30 or 40 cents – you’ll spend $2 plus on a cup of coffee at Starbucks! ‘Nuf said…