“For the past few months, I’ve felt as if someone is following me. It started little, with lights I swear I shut off still on and doors slightly ajar when I thought I had closed them. At first, I assumed it was my imagination, but then I began to hear noises.

Despite the fact that I live alone, I occasionally hear faint noises coming from upstairs. I tried to shrug it off, but last week I saw muddy tracks heading from the back door to the kitchen. I wasn’t sure what to do.

Then, yesterday, things got worse. I returned home from work to discover my living room reconfigured. The coffee table had been relocated, and the books on my shelf were in a different order. I felt afraid. I locked myself in my bedroom and called the police.

They arrived, but after searching, they discovered nothing. As they were leaving, one cop paused and remarked, ‘Ma’am, there’s no trace of somebody breaking in, but… I think I know what’s going on.’ My pulse raced as he came in closer and asked, ‘Have you checked on your cat?

And that’s when I remembered. My kitty. The gremlin. The chaotic cyclone who enjoys knocking books over, dragging muddy shoes about, and swiping light switches like it’s her full-time job. Mystery solved. I am just living with a furry agent of chaos.”