My least favorite part of cat ownership, aside from emptying litterboxes and cleaning up vomit, is listening to cats scratch things.
Whenever Selina coughs up a hairball, she scratches at the floor to let me know I need to grab some paper towels to clean up. Motherfucker scratches chairs when she is hungry, and worried that the only 1/4 full food dish may soon be empty. Zeke has no claws.
I often wake up to the sound of scratching, and yell in the general direction of the kitchen. I almost always yell out "Selina! Cut it out!", even though, statistically speaking, there's a 50% chance of it being Motherfucker. This is usually followed by more scratching, one more yell, and then peace.
I woke up around four to SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH. I yelled at Selina, who, it turned out was resting against my chest. Motherfucker was perched directly to my right, and Zeke was on my right arm.
My house might have A Ghost Cat.