Exorcism of a cat

My mother had always wanted a calico cat.  We always had a cat or a dog growing up, but it was never her choice.  When all of the children left home, she decided to get a calico.  She adored her, and named her Hannah.  That cat loved my father, and that was not an easy thing for those that walked on two legs.  He was a mean spirited alcoholic.  Hannah did not seem to mind, and followed him around or curled up with him in the easy chair.  When my mother passed away, Hannah was content to live with my dad.  She continued to follow him, and listen to his drunken tales. 

When my father passed away, Hannah seemed lost and frightened.  Not one of my brothers or sister were willing to take her, so I volunteered.  I had to catch her, which was an adventure that had me covered in scratches.  I finally got her contained, and transported her to her new home.  I had two other cats, but made every effort to make her feel welcome.  She was not pleased with the whole living arrangements, and decided to take residence under my bed.  She refused to come out.  If you approached her or came within proximity of the bed, she would hiss and scratch you.  I thought that she just needed some time, and was willing to give this to her.  Despite my efforts, she remained there for almost a year.  Of course she ate and used the litter box, but she went back to her spot under the bed.  It was always interesting to explain the growl and his coming from my bed.   I was certain that she was possessed, and we needed an exorcism, and fast. 

I was discussing my dilemma at work, and a woman said that she could help.  She was a self proclaimed animal therapist, and would like the practice working with Hannah.  I had never heard of such a thing, but I was willing to try anything at this point.  I made an appointment with her and she came over one Saturday to analyze Hannah's feelings and emotions.  I was hoping that she would bring a priest and some Holy Water, but sadly she did not. 

She tried to capture Hannah from under the bed, and only obtained some nasty scratches on her arms.  She did successfully scare her out from the bed, and scrambled to find her in the back yard.  She sat down on the concrete and stared at her.  Hannah stared back, with wide eyes and her ears back.  They sat that way for about fifteen minutes, and I was afraid to interrupt her session.  Finally the "therapist" came inside to tell me her insights to Hannah's condition. 

She stated that Hannah was mad.  She was unhappy about moving, and did not like the new living arrangements.  Oh really!  I am glad that I did not pay for this service.  I started looking in the phone book for cat exorcism services, and sadly did not find one.  I checked to see if the vet could provide her some Xanax or something to help her deal with this stress.  Despite my best efforts, I was unable to soothe Hannah or help her adapt to our home.  She simply missed my father.  After a year of trying, I took her to the SPCA to see if they could find her a home with a lonely old man with no other animals or children.  I explained the situation, and they assured me they would take care of her.  It was a no kill facility, so I am sure that Hannah found a new home.  I also left the number for her "therapist" just in case.