Paw-sitively Spooky: Bonus Halloween Parent Stories 2025

Welcome to Paw-sitively Spooky: Bonus Halloween Parent Stories! Pixel Pounce’s special October edition where we round up eerie, hilarious, and head-scratching tales from fur parents who swear their pets have a sixth sense or just really chaotic timing.

This month, we’re celebrating Halloween with eight stories that mix fur, fright, and a little bit of the unexplainable. Some will make you laugh, some will make you shiver, and all will remind you that pets always seem to know when something’s up… even when you don’t.

1. The Midnight Knock

I live alone in an old house by the woods with my husky, Luna. It’s quiet, peaceful, and a little too far from the nearest neighbor. At night, the silence can feel almost heavy. Luna usually sleeps soundly at the foot of my bed, so when she started growling one night, low and deep in her chest, I knew something was wrong.

At first, I thought she’d heard a stray animal outside, maybe a raccoon or a fox. Then came the sound of three loud knocks on the front door. It was way past midnight and I definitely wasn't expecting anyone this hour. Luna went still, ears raised, staring straight at the door. I held my breath and crept to the peephole but couldn't see a thing with the porch light turned off. No movement, just the outline of the porch and the trees beyond. 

Still, Luna wouldn’t move. Her growl turned into a sharp bark that echoed through the house. I whispered for her to stay, but before I could grab her collar, she lunged forward. I opened the door just a crack, and she burst outside, teeth bared, barking into the dark. I turned the porch light on, casting long shadows across the yard.

That’s when I saw movement near the tree line. It was a tall man wearing dark clothes, sprinting away into the woods. My heart dropped. He must've been knocking to check if anyone was home. I called Luna back, slammed the door, and locked every bolt. She stood guard by the entryway for hours, refusing to leave her spot. Neither of us slept that night.

The next morning, I stepped outside to check. The dirt on the porch was disturbed, and just beyond the steps were muddy footprints. Specifically, huge, deep, and heavy boot prints. I realized then that Luna had done more than just scare someone off. She might have saved us from something much worse. We moved a week later. I still keep her close, and I always listen when she growls.

– El and Luna

2. The Glitch in the Loft

Shortly before my ex and I broke up, we moved into a much bigger home. It was three storeys tall with an open loft on the top floor. The house was beautiful, but something about it always gave me the creeps. What I didn’t realize then was that we were both quietly dealing with strange, possibly paranormal things but that’s a story for another day.

Two of our cats, Cupcake and his mom Muffin, stayed in the master bedroom where my work desk was (I work from home). Between Zoom calls and zoomies, chaos was constant. On one particularly wild evening, I let them out mid-meeting to calm things down. 

Three hours later, I went downstairs to find Muffin lounging on the stairs but no Cupcake. My ex hadn’t even noticed he was gone. A sudden wave of panic hit me, and I tore through every room in the house calling his name. Nothing. Finally, I climbed up to the loft. That dark, echoey, empty space that always felt... off. I called again, and faintly, I heard him. His meow was coming from inside the wall. 

The loft had an A-frame ceiling, and the sound was coming from one of the pin lights. There was no possible way he could’ve gotten up there. I told my ex to grab a screwdriver, pried open part of the ceiling, and there was Cupcake’s dusty little face staring back at me, wedged between the ceiling and the metal roofing.

We lured him out with treats until I was able to reach in and grab him, but I’ll never understand how he got there. No holes, no gaps, nothing. Was it a weird dimensional glitch? Who knows. 

Years later, we now live together with his new hooman mom and siblings but I still ask him how that happened. If only Cupcake could talk, maybe he could tell me but I’m not entirely sure I’m ready for what he’s about to say.

– Maxx and Cupcake

3. Cold Winter

My name’s Marissa, and last winter was the coldest I’ve ever known. I’d lost my job, burned through my savings, and worn out my welcome on every couch I could find. Friends who once said “stay as long as you need” started finding polite excuses, and eventually, there was nowhere left to go.

One bitter night, I wandered until my legs ached and found an old house sitting alone by the road. It looked forgotten, the kind of place even the wind didn’t bother passing through. I slipped inside, wrapped myself in a fleece blanket, and heated a can of soup I bought yesterday in a Dollar Tree. 

That’s when a dog appeared. It looked filthy and thin and standing in the kitchen doorway like he’d been waiting for me. His eyes were gentle, sad, and knowing. I whispered hello, and he wagged his tail once before stepping closer. We shared each other's company in silence.

For the next few nights, we kept each other company. I’d go out looking for work or food and come back hoping he’d be there. Sometimes he was, sometimes he wasn’t but during those days I affectionately called him "Buddy". Then, one day, after a few days of not seeing him, I spotted him again. He was standing in the doorway to the backyard. 

I called out, but he turned and walked back out again. When I followed, he was gone. I’ve never been in the backyard since I've been sleeping there and it looked like a hoarder's paradise. Near the back fence, I found a piece of cracked cement half-buried in dirt with a paw print pressed into its surface and the name “Boone” carved below. 

That night, I stayed in the house one last time. It felt colder than ever.

– Marissa and Boone

4. The Closet Knock

I’d been trying to move out of my childhood home for years. The place was chaotic and packed with cousins, aunts, and constant family drama. My mom, who worked abroad, insisted I stay there to “watch over” the house she inherited from my grandparents, worried my greedy relatives might try to take it.

When COVID hit, those same cousins gave me the virus. That was the final straw. I told my mom everything: how they were using me all the time for money and making my life miserable. She finally agreed to let me move out, but only if I stayed within a certain distance from the family home.

The best I could find was a dingy little apartment right at the edge of that “approved radius.” The place was small, dusty, and depressing, but it was mine. I didn’t bother fixing it up. With two cats and a cluttered room full of clothes and boxes, it looked like the kind of mess single girls get into when they’re trying to rebuild their lives.

My cats loved it, however. They turned every pile of laundry into a jungle gym. One night, though, I woke to a strange noise: a slow, rhythmic thud coming from my closet. It sounded like someone knocking from the inside. My whole body froze.

I whispered my cats’ names, but neither appeared. My heart raced as the knocking grew louder. Finally, I grabbed a shoe and flung the closet doors open. Inside, Pants, my black cat, blinked up at me, fur puffed, trapped between fallen boxes. He bolted out like his tail was on fire.

I laughed so hard I cried. For weeks, I’d been convinced this creepy apartment was haunted. Turns out, the ghost was just a cat with terrible timing.

– Kim and Pantalones

5. The Gentle Tap

After my breakup, I moved into a small rental house on the edge of town. It was old and drafty in a way that makes every sound echo. My cat, Fig, adjusted faster than I did. Every night, she’d jump on my bed and curl behind my knees, purring until I fell asleep.

A few weeks in, I started waking up around 2 or 3 a.m. to the sound of light tapping on my bedroom door. Always the same pattern: tap, tap, pause, tap. At first, I assumed it was Fig wanting out. I’d open the door, and she’d trot into the hallway. After that, it became routine. Tap, tap, pause, tap then I’d open the door, mumble “go on,” and she’d disappear into the dark.

One night, I woke to the sound again, only louder. I sat up, groggy, and reached for the lamp. That’s when I realized Fig was already asleep beside me. The tapping continued and it moved from the door to the window, then the wall behind my headboard. 

I froze. Fig woke up, ears twitching, and hissed so sharply I thought she’d hurt herself. I grabbed my phone, turned on the flashlight, and scanned the room but there was nothing, just shadows.

Trying to calm down, I got out of bed and walked toward the door. On the wood, faintly visible in the beam of my light, were tiny smudges. Finger marks. Not scratches, prints. Like someone pressing, over and over. I locked every door, every window, and climbed back into bed with Fig pressed against me, trembling.

The next morning, the prints were gone so I assumed I had dreamt everything but I moved her litter box closer to the door so I’d hear her if she got up. She hasn’t moved since. But sometimes, while I’m half asleep, I swear I still hear the tapping.

– Hanah and Fig

Got a Story to Share?

If your pet has ever stared into a corner, disappeared through walls, or pulled off a Halloween prank worthy of an exorcism, we want to hear it. Send your spine-tingling or heart warming pet story HERE and get a 5% OFF discount code plus a chance to be featured in next month’s Paw-sitively Hilarious: Fur Parent Stories.

Because in the world of fur parents, every strange sound has paw prints behind it.