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A Physics Carol

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Schrodinger's cat was dead, to begin with. There was no doubt whatever about that. Or at least, Schrodinger didn't think so. He had opened the box; he had looked inside; the poison had been released, and the cat was dead as a doornail.

Of course, when the cat -- or was it the cat's ghost? -- came back that night, Schrodinger was less sure. He had observed the cat, and it had been dead, which meant it could no longer be in an unresolved state. And yet apparently it was, for it had returned, to glare at him balefully from the foot of his bed where it had jumped up and begun kneading the covers.

Schrodinger kicked at it; it yowled, and jumped to the side, but didn't go away. It gave Schrodinger a look that seemed to him to be a warning, and then, unexpectedly, it was gone.

The three times that night a ghost appeared before Schrodinger, he very earnestly ignored it until it went away, and when morning came he was glad to shake off the terrors of the dark. He put on his slippers and went grumbling over to the study, where he saw that the box had its lid on again. Strange; he had left it off the night before when he had taken the dead cat out. Gingerly he lifted the lid, then jumped back suddenly as a cat -- very much alive -- sprang out of the box and ran out the door.

This was all utterly confusing and utterly impossible, of course, and Schrodinger decided it would be best if he never talked about it. He would be better off to write it up as only a thought experiment, perhaps....