A Ghost Story

In Family stories, Ghosts, Loud barks, My family on February 6, 2011 at 10:32 am

Zoey is not up to writing this week, so I’m writing in her place. She’s experiencing a bit of doggy depression. She always does after company leaves.

My dad visited this past weekend.

When he arrived, Zoey gave him a five-minute hello with the constant tail thump, all-over-his-face kisses and body-consuming wiggles. She wanted his pets and his attention, which had to be short-lived during his two-day stay.

At bedtime, she couldn’t decide, at first, who to curl up against. She eventually picked me, her regular sleep buddy, only to jump off the bed and bark at one corner of my room, as she had been for the past three days.

I got scared, because my dad had told me she had done the same thing at his house, maybe, as my dad jokingly said, because of a ghost. One night, my dad saw a strange floating face in the house that was built in the early 1900s. He said it likely was a hallucination from his extreme exhaustion. But when Zoey started barking at a certain corner of the living room, he said maybe she, too, was seeing the “ghost.”

My dad and I, however, don’t believe in ghosts, though I also believe that there is the possibility …

Zoey started up her corner barking that night, resulting in my getting chills, thinking about my dad’s “ghost story.” I got my dad up, asking, “What if it really is a ghost?”

An hour or so later after more of Zoey’s off-and-on, late-night barking, my dad said, “Hey, when did your landlords install the garage heater?”

I had mentioned the heater earlier in the evening to explain why I kept the apartment a little warmer than I wanted, but now could turn it down a couple of degrees.

“That’s your ghost,” my dad said.

Oh. I felt quite silly.

In my family, it’s already become one of those stories that we like to tell and retell, laughing at memories of our growing up years.

Yep, I have a story and it has a ghost in it. Or not.

Plus, I have a sad little puppy.


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