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I lived in a one bedroom shack in Olympia that was haunted by some sort of animal spirit. I had no belief in such things before hand, but it became impossible to ignore.
The house was airtight (which I verified one time by locking myself out and having to pay a locksmith $75 to get me back in) but my cat kept getting in and out on his own. I would have thought I was going bonkers, but it was always on nights when I'd had somebody sleeping with me, so I could verify he had gone in or out on his own. There were the usual noises in the other room and stuff like that too. I became convinced there was a spirit in the place, and at first rather than scared, I was fascinated by it. This went on for a couple months.
Then one day I went off to work (djing in the club) and my cat who was getting older and starting to have kidney problems had puked on my table. I didn't have time to clean it up, but figured I would when I came home. When I did, though, there was this crazy fucked up sculpture made with the cat puke and a stack of my favorite cds and the junk mail on the table, a bit like the weird collage "Pink" made in the hotel room in The Wall. It was disgusting and obviously malicious. So I'd had it and decided I wasn't going to tolerate it anymore. My wife, who I had just started dating at the time, actually cleaned the whole fucking mess up for me, because I was too freaked out to do it myself.
I had a friend, actually my weed dealer, who was into "magick" and all that shit, and I'd always scoffed at him. However, now I called him up and asked him to come over and do a "binding" or whatever it took to get rid of what he called "the beasty". Even as he did so, the whole thing seemed ridiculous to me, he did something I didn't see in the house by himself while I waited outside with another friend and then came out and made some very silly seeming high pitched screech. But when he did it, he was out in the yard, and there was a crash like something falling over in the house. And the incidents, including just my cat being able to get through locked doors like he had, totally stopped.
Later I found from my neighbor that in her back yard, which was an adjoining and co-owned property, there was a pet grave. I checked it out. It said, "In remembrance of Baby" or something like that. So I think maybe it was the spirit of that pet fucking with me. I don't know. But we were plenty glad to have it gone, whatever it was.
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