A few weeks ago I was watching the late night news. I was alone in the living room, stretched out in a large dark brown recliner. I noticed from the corner of my eye that Gita was focused on the chair by my left leg.
Suddenly, he stepped forward, placed his front paws on the spot, stood there for a moment, and then jumped nonchalantly to the floor and headed to his tree house.
Wondering, I put my hand down on the spot he had been so interested in. Imagine my surprise when I felt the agonized squirming of an invisible feline under my fingers!
A few cats have passed over since I bought this house. They have been killed by psycopath teenagers, or people that just don't like cats, or certain restaurant owners that like to serve cat in their chicken chow mein, as it doesn't cost them for meat.
 All of them came back after passing over.
This one, however, I suspected, was a common yellow breed that had taken to me when alive. He had been a street cat until I had taken him in. I sent thoughts of healing at his spirit, but he continued to convulse until he disappeared completely from under my hand, going to another plane.
"What a shame," I thought: dead and still has to feel pain and suffering! It caused me to wonder what was in store for people when their time came. Would it really be a time of rest? Or would we have to be on the alert against attack even after death?
Only time would tell, I guess, but I am at the transition stage, and am taking no chances. When the time comes that I leave this mortal coil, I intend to separate, and then go out completely protected by an impassable, impregnable, completely indestructible barrier of impentrable force.
People should take absolutely nothing for granted! When the time comes protect yourselves!

The way I see it anyway.