madbaker | This made me laugh.

An amusing bit in the book I'm reading, where one of the side characters gets adopted by an undead mummified cat:

That skinny, zombie-gray, wrinkly fleshed cat from Wahanket's lair had leapt, hooked its claws into Goodfellow's pants, and it wasn't letting go. Flickering jack-o'-lantern eyes looked upward and it croaked again.
He angled the blade under its chin, and that's when we heard it. Loud and clear.
The purr from beyond the grave.
It was like the rattle of bones, but that's what it was, all right. Rough and coarse and rapturous.

(later in the chapter)
"Yesterday she somehow opened the locks, got out the door, and ran into Mrs. Federstein's Great Dane. I come home from the dealership last evening to find a 'present' on my pillow - one very big, very dead dog. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a Great Dane into the incinerator?"