Somewhere in Van Buren Co. Tennessee there use to be a house (I’m pretty sure it’s not there anymore) that my grandmother or Ma as we called her told me about. She said that one day a man was shot while working and had been taken into the house where he died. She said that after a while her grandparents moved into the house and they had a dog with them. The first night they slept in the house they heard the front door open and someone walking though the house, into the bedroom and set at the bottom of the bed. They couldn’t see anyone. The next day he tied the dog to the front of the house next to the door. That night the same noises came with something or someone sitting down on the end of the bed, and the next morning they found the dog had been let loose.

Well, he tied the dog up again and tighter this time so the dog couldn’t get loose himself. The same thing happened again with the dog being loose in the morning. The old man tried every night something new to keep the dog tied but nothing helped.

Every night the same thing would happen and the dog would be loose. On the last night, cause the moved out the very next day, they were lying in bed and the front door opened as always and they heard the pitter patter of footsteps (which is what Ma always called them) come though the house and then upon the bed as always. But this time something happened that had never happened before, the man started cussing the ghost and telling it to get off the bed. He said that it started at his feet and went all the way to his head like an electrical shock. He scared him so bad they moved and never went back in that house.

Ma alse told me that some time after all that some of our kin were working out in a field near the house and seen a large black cat (panther if you will, they use to be alot of them in the area)go into the house. They thought they would go look though the window and see it they could see the cat but when they got there there wasn’t any cat and they were sure that the cat hadn’t come back out.