The first pet I had, after I got married, was a white, part Siamese, cat named Whiskers. She always had a very distinct personality. For some reason a number of my friends were intimidated by her. She couldn't have been better with us and eventually our baby son. She was 18 years old when she went into severe kidney failure and could not be saved. I was more upset about her passing than I could believe. A couple of years before she died we had gotten our son a little calico kitten. Whiskers (when she realized this cat was staying) took over mothering her.
One day, a few months after Whiskers died, my husband and I were sitting in the living room. Our calico cat (Moxie) was in the big front window looking out. All of a sudden the dining room table creaked just like it use to when Whiskers jumped out of the window onto it. I looked at my husband and said "I think Whiskers is back for a visit". At that point Moxie turned from looking out of the window and her eyes got as big as saucers. She moved her head to follow something as it crossed the dining room and when it went into the hallway she followed. I got up to see what she was doing. She was sitting up on her haunches looking up the stairs to the door outside of our son's room. She finally turned around and left. I firmly believe that Whisker's had come back to see if we were all OK.
When I was sick a few years later I use to feel her jump up onto the bed with me. She would be purring so loud that I had to sit up and look around to make sure that it wasn't one of our living cats. I always joked that she was my first baby and I guess she felt like one of the family.