Last week I had a ghost dog visit me. My first thought was that it was Mysti but then I noticed it was shorter and longer. This little puppy walked right in front of me and out through the wall. At the time, I even noticed the direction it was coming from which is a little unusual for me.
That afternoon I observed my neighbor in the yard and mentioned to David, who was here too, that she looked sad. He glanced at her and acknowledged that he saw her but commented something like this, “Sad?” in a way that made me start to explain that something about her was different.
The next morning while letting Madeline out for her morning outing I saw my neighbor preparing to get into her car to go to work. Of course I told her how pretty she looked. Since she’s a widow, I figure she needs to hear occasionally that she’s attractive. And she is really.
That’s when she mentioned that her little dachshund had died the day before. The ghost dog came from her house’s direction but I didn’t put it together until she confessed the dog’s death. Condolences were given but you can’t stop grief.
Later I told her about the little dog I’d seen walking through my house that morning before David came over that afternoon. She mentioned her dog was dead when she came home for lunch and that she didn’t know what could have happened to her since she was so young.
Maybe the puppy just wanted her to know that dog’s live on too.
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