I have not been arrested since 1998 when as a young boy of only 50 I got arrested for DWI and belting a nice young policeman.
Tonight I was going to bed with my finger puppets and my 1932 antique female manequin from Gimbels when I heard my cats go nuts downstairs. I leaped out of bed and grabbed my camera.
In the kitchen I watched the three cats surrounding my garbage can and recycle bin. They had knocked stuff over while moving around with teeth and claws out.
No mice or rats live in my house so far as I know and all of the small bugs that are here live on my head and groin and in my armpits.
You can see the momat Mister Mittens' right ear in the far right of this photo trying to get to some action as her daughter Shiloh goes to her to lend a hand. The tomcat Trouble was trying to kill something behind the Arm And Hammer litter box.
Moments later the cats are still trying to get into some creature but there are no creatures there. Mister Mittens was in the corner hissing, her son was stalking back to where his sister is and little Shiloh is clawing up a mat to find out where the "thing" is.
I'm not sure about ghosts but stranger things than this have happened in my 1947 kitchen.