I spent many years as a veterinary technician at various hospitals.
One in particular stands out, built in an old farmhouse with a huge attic up top. Two vets ran it, both of whom warned me about the "ghost" upstairs. I brushed it off as taking the mickey out of the new girl.
... until I spent the night with a retriever with antifreeze poisoning.
Around 3 AM, Bucky the clinic cat (who only had three legs) came streaking down the attic stairs and bolted under the exam table and wouldn't come out. About the same time, I heard the radio start playing in the attic, where all the old nonsense stuff was stored out of the way.
Being not only intrepid but a bit dumb to boot, I went up the stairs, opened the attic door, turned on the light, and crossed to the radio to turn it off.
At which point I discovered that IT WASN'T PLUGGED IN.
Next morning, both doctors approached me separately and asked me if "Bucky had warned me about anything last night".