This is exactly right.

What's that at the foot of my bed?

It's spooky and kooky. I'm pretty sure it's dead.

It's coming this way. Wait a minute. Hey, I'm ghosted.

By Ross Hernandez.

Eat me, please.

Hey, boo. It's me, Roz. And welcome to Ghosted by Roz Hernandez, the podcast where I talk to people that I like about the paranormal.

Zach Noey Towers is back on the pod.

The two of us always a gay old time, isn't it? We had a great time. I think

you're going to enjoy this one. I have a story first, though. This one comes from Shelby. Shelby

writes, I bought my first house in 2022, an old farmhouse built in the 1880s and located across from a cemetery.

I love this place, and I've always felt safe and comfortable here, but pretty early in there were some signs that we weren't alone in the house. I have two experiences I wanted

to share about this house. The first is the ghost cats. When I first took custody of the house,

I could smell cat pee in a couple of the main rooms, and I just assumed it was where the litter

boxes had been. I deodorized every room to make sure any lingering urine was taken care of,

and I forgot about it. But the ghost cats didn't forget about me. For almost two years, I kept smelling cat pee in random rooms

and could not find a source. I was going crazy. Until one of the neighbors told me about

old lady Holly,

who lived here before the owner I bought the house from.

She was an animal lover and had dozens of cats over the years.

It's unclear if she died in the house, but signs point to yes.

Since hearing the story, I've taken to saying,

...