My cat Henry was my best friend. Our family got Henry when I was in my first year of high school. Henry and I grew up together and shared the same temperment. We got along well.
Henry had a habit of coming into my room in the middle of the night to sleep in my bed. Henry was a very large cat. When he jumped on the bed, it always woke me up long enough to feel him lay across the back of my legs. One evening, when I got in from work, Henry didn't come up to visit with me. In retrospect, that was quite strange; but I didn't think about it after a hard day at work. Then I heard a horrible growling from outside. I went outside to see what was going on. I saw three neighborhood dogs on top of Henry. I tried to help Henry and comfort him after I chased the dogs away, but Henry died in my arms about an hour later. My dad buried Henry in our yard.
I took Henry's death quite hard. I was still upset about it several weeks later. I was having trouble sleeping one night because I was thinking about how much I missed Henry. At that point, I heard the boards in our old house the same way they did when Henry walked on them. I was quite scared at this point. Then, I felt something jump to my bed and settle on the back of my legs. I felt very comforted by this and went to sleep without really thinking about it.
Several days later, I remembered what had happened. It was then that it struck me as odd. Logically, I guess you could say that my mind provided itself with some means of comfort. I'm not really sure what happened, but I like to think that Henry was comforting me even after he had died.