Andy Richardson: It's a scream! Fright fest is taking over

Twigs, two conkers and leaves coloured ochre, crimson, magenta, amber orange, burgundy red and buttery yellow had been deposited on the living room carpet. It looked like a Constable or Monet.

Collecting autumn windfalls is Alice's hobby. She's not just being cute and showing off a new skill. She doesn't do it at any other time of year. There are no daffs in spring and no barbecue remnants in summer.

At Alice's house, it happens every year.

Another friend has a dog whose hobby is trying to answer the phone. If his two landlines or two mobiles go off, Archie sprints faster than Mark Cavendish on the Champs Elysees to beat him to it. Though why anyone needs two landlines and two mobiles beats me: I reckon he must be operating a mini cab firm from his front room.

Alice's owner is lucky. As Halloween looms into view, she might take to collecting pumpkins. I'm not sure cats are strong enough to haul the most famous of winter squashes across the threshold. Though Alice's razor-like claws would make swift work of its smooth, slightly ribbed skin if she decided to carve a seasonal face.

Halloween originated in the UK as a means of remembering the dead and faithful departed.

But in recent years it's been Americanised to such an extent that Halloween is second only to Christmas – which, as we all know, is about snapping up bargains from Next and cooking party packs from Lidl rather than celebrating the son of a carpenter.

Before commercialisation took over, Halloween had rules. The three-line whip was that kids who engaged in trick or treating had to wear costumes. Those who didn't weren't observing tradition; they were engaging in an altogether different pursuit – asking for free stuff while wearing your normal clothes is called begging.

Historically, kids sought a bitesize piece of chocolate when they knocked on a door. No cash changed hands. The disengaged or just plain sardonic would offer alternatives, like apples, or, bizarrely, tooth brushes. Imagine that: heading out looking for a bar of Lindt and coming home with a Philips Sonicare.

The sine qua non of Halloween is that trick or treating only ever takes place on October 31.

Asking for treats on other nights is like asking for Christmas presents on December 29. It's just plain greedy. And it'll probably lead to your friendly, neighbourhood policeman having a quiet word.

Not everyone is as daft as us Brits. In Australia, Halloween is no more popular than a visit to the dentist. In the middle of spring, Aussies are too busy getting beach-body-fit to worry about dressing up.

Melbourne hosts an annual immersive event by a group called Zombie Apocalypse that runs a Ghost Train to Hell. But when hell is a huge warehouse full of revellers drinking amber nectar and dancing until dawn, it doesn't seem like such a bad place.

Germans started to celebrate Halloween auf Deutsch sometime during the 1990s, when they realised they could throw in a free party before Matinstag, a costume-and-lantern procession that takes place on November 11.

Latin countries are almost as engaged as those in the UK. In Spain, Mexico and parts of Latin America, there's a widely held belief that spirits visit their families on October 31 before departing again on November 2.

Feasts are prepared for those visitors – though, by some strange quirk of the-spirits-don't-really-exist fate, the feasts are never touched by ghouls from the afterlife – so locals fill their faces.

In China, ex-pats have introduced days of the dead festivals such as the Hungry Ghost Festival, the Qingming Festival, the Double 9th Festival, and the Spring Festival while Austria has a Pumpkin Festival in Retzer Land called Kürbisfest im Retzer Land. Locals imagine that leaving out bread, water, and a lighted lamp will encourage dead souls to return.

But it's in America that the serious action takes place. Every city has its own way to celebrate and one of the most popular takes place at Queen Mary's Dark Harbour, off Long Beach, California, which is supposed to be the most haunted place in the world. Visitors are taunted by 200 monsters and ghosts as they venture through six terrifying mazes.

Universal Studios celebrates with an interactive Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Knott's Scary Farm ups the ante with 1,000 monsters in 160 acres of horror while New York welcomes 50,000 funseekers to the Village Halloween Parade.

And when you look at things like that, having a cat called Alice that brings in a few autumnal leafs and twigs seems eminently sensible.