I had no intention of splitting this entry however I began to feel as though part one of this post was simply getting too long.

As you will remember, Duke had died and I was very unhappy about this.

It wasn’t around his own home that I would see Duke again, though I looked for him. Perhaps he wasn’t happy at all there and felt no need to return? Perhaps he didn’t care for the other ghost dogs that ran wild about the place. I am still uncertain.

It was on a city street that I would spot him again from inside a car. I noticed him immediately, so out of place without a leash with a person attached to it. So wild looking against the tamed backdrop of cement.

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My first thought was that it was him. I was in the back of our town car and we had stopped at a traffic light. Naturally I dismissed him as a similar looking dog at first, though I did see ghosts often by that time, I often left that conclusion as a last resort.

That was until a person on the sidewalk stepped into and through Duke. I knew then that I was not looking at another dog, but my friend.

I noticed something else that I thought was odd at the time, I was not the only one who saw him. A little girl was standing with her mother on what I assumed was their front lawn and the little girl was pointing at Duke. I watched the mother, or the woman with the girl, and it seemed as though she could not figure out what the child was pointing at.

Duke meanwhile was staring in my direction. He was unmoving. Very unlike a dog. The ears didn’t twitch with the passing cross traffic. He never wagged his tail or glanced in the direction of the little girl. He just continued to gaze, upright on all fours at what I assume was me.

Eventually our light turned and we drove on. I watched him for as long as I could and his head moved with our car as we drove away.

~

The second time I saw Duke was much like the first, only a bit closer.

Then a series of sightings happened until he became a familiar albeit random presence in my life.

Eventually he crossed that boundary, the one that so many paranormal events mimic , in which a being stays just out of reach and gives only a brief encounter. Just enough to make you wonder if it was real.

I woke one day and shuffled into the kitchen for breakfast. I was on some sort of holiday from school though I couldn’t say which one, but I know I had several days in a row. There was no way to miss Duke as I passed through the archway into the kitchen. He was sitting next to the table we had in our breakfast nook overlooking the garden. He looked enormous so close up.

My father was getting some coffee and said good morning to me. I watched him, waiting to see if he made any reference to the beast in the room. He did not.

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In the next few minutes something happened that would open up a dialog between my father and I about the situation that has never truly ended. Duke stood up right as my father was exiting the kitchen from the door opposite the archway I was standing in. As he rose, Duke knocked against the chair and it moved a bit and squeaked a lot.

My father was passing right by as this happened so to him it appeared as though, well you can imagine.

I stood still watching not quite sure what to do. My father turned to look at me as if I had somehow caused this. Duke stood still watching me as if for some cue, he never so much as glanced at my father.

The situation was actually quite amusing from my end.

Eventually my father asked the classic: did you see that?

I said yes.

I did not say anything else. He waited for what I think was a full minute before asking me if I knew what moved the chair. Again I said yes.

He then asked if I wanted to tell him what had moved the chair. I shook my head no, I don’t know why. Still adjusting I suppose?

My father is a wonderfully patient man. He nodded and left the room with his coffee.

I got down on my knees and patted toward Duke who came to me. I was able to pet him then as I know he never would have permitted in life. He sat in front of me allowing me to ruffle his fur and scratch behind his ears. Eventually I sat down to eat breakfast and during that time he left. I don’t remember if I saw him go through a door or just disappear.

I saw him many times for years and only on occasion would he bump an object or create a gust as he ran enough to effect something around him.

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Eventually my dealings with the paranormal took a turn and I did not see Duke anymore. I’m not sure if he moved on to another place or if I am just unable. He stayed with me off and on for about five years and the connection we had I really couldn’t explain. At times it was if he wasn’t truly a dog at all, but putting on a show for my benefit. A theory that would be strengthened by a later event in my life would make that seem the case, but who can ever know for sure. Perhaps someday I’ll get the chance again to ask him.

Goodbye for now, another end.
Until a time we meet again.

-Seline

During the time period when I was just beginning to understand that I could see ghosts, more specifically at the time, ghost animals, I met a friend that would change my life for some time.

I was taken out to visit a farm around the age of seven or so, a place my parents knew well because some of their very good friends had owned the place for years. Sadly it is gone now. Sold and chopped and reinvented so that now it holds all of the majesty and wonder of an old shoe; condos that all look identical with no personality or even an artist’s touch. How sad for us all, those who live in them and those who have their creative talents laid to rest designing them. But enough about that…

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I believe I was always shy around new people and though there were other children there, I did not take to them well. My attention was focused on the vast expanse of space that reminded more of pictures in books than real life. I was after all a city kid to the core and I’m not sure I quite believed that such places truly existed until then.

Walking toward an old wooden fence I watched the wildlife. Some I knew was living, breathing and absolutely amazing to watch. Some I knew was not. By this time in my life I knew better than to point out the latter in front of strangers, so I simply watched as the paranormal events blending with natural wildlife play out.

It was standing against that fence that I first noticed Duke. Though he was a very large dog, it wasn’t his size that caught my attention; it was that he didn’t fit at all. Unlike the rest of the animals he wasn’t really a part of the surroundings, but he certainly wasn’t dead either.

I remember running up to my mother and asking about him as she chatted with her friend on the porch and I was told that Duke was not a very friendly dog; that he didn’t much care for children. I ran back over to watch him and he certainly didn’t seem friendly. He snapped at one of the other dogs there when it got too close and he wore an expression that just looked to fierce for you’re a-typical farm pup.

I decided I liked him anyway. Even after he walked close to the fence and growled at me, which did cause me to take a step back, but did not divert my attention.

~

On my second visit to the farm a few months later I took off by myself. I wasn’t really supposed to go outside of the main gate, but no one was watching all of the kids playing and I believe it was assumed that the gate latch was too tall and difficult for smaller kids. Fortunately for me, I always had friends nearby who could give me a hand with such things.

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I suppose the point of keeping me in the fenced yard was a concern that I might get lost or hurt on my own. I managed to do the first quite easily and the other I came close to; close enough that if not for Duke I might have truly regretted my adventure.

Though I had gotten lost I was still enjoying myself. The woods there were beautiful and very large to me, though in time I would see that size is all relative. I had managed to pick up a companion, one of the other younger dogs had followed me out and it was perhaps his company that allowed me not fear losing my way. I truly had no idea where I was, nor how to find my way back again, but I kept going deeper into the woods. The place seemed magical in a way, perhaps just because I hadn’t had much experience with the outdoors.

~

Walking down that path must have peeked some sort of curiosity in Duke, because after a little while the friendly dog and I were no longer alone. Though I knew enough about him to recognize the oddity I did not mind that I now had a friendly dog walking on one side and Duke, the so-called grump on my other. I didn’t try to pet him, I think I knew he wouldn’t like it, or perhaps he just made me nervous.

The three of us went on that way for some time and though Duke would sometimes give me a sideways glance he didn’t growl at all, just continued to keep pace with our little group of escapees.

I saw a great deal in the woods that day. Thinking back on it they must have raised dogs on that farm and must have been doing so for a long time. There were many ghost dogs on the property that skittered by in the trees, but did not approach. I found it interesting that every time I saw one, Duke seemed to notice as well, though he did not seem upset by them at all.

At some point I point my hand on his back. A bold move I know, perhaps even stupid, but I was already a long way from smart decisions that day. Duke didn’t shy away or react badly to my touch, giving me only another sideways look before turning his head forward again. This I remember very well because it made me so happy. Once I felt as though he didn’t mind my being close I think I relaxed and really began to realize that I had no idea where I was.

It was getting dark then and dark in the woods is a great deal different than dark in your own backyard when your mother is calling out from the lighted porch that you have five more minutes to play.

I think I started to get scared. Foolishly I think on some level I expected the path to lead back to the house, or some kind of marker that would steer me back. I should have turned around. That would have led me back the way I came and hopefully back to the house, as long as I didn’t take any wrong turns.

So what did I do? I kept going! Perhaps I saw light ahead, I honestly don’t remember why I decided that it was best to plow forward rather than turn back. The two dogs stayed with me, bright in the darkening woods with their lighter colored fur. To this day I don’t know what kind of dogs they were. Large, with light fur and ears that perked up at the slightest sound.

~

It was on the path, still trudging forward that I first heard the rattle. I don’t think I had been paying attention to the path ahead until I heard that noise. I looked up to see a snake, semi-coiled and making a noise that I had only heard in movies. I knew that it was bad. I also knew that snakes could lunge. I further knew that the sound meant it was upset. I froze.

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How long I would have stood there I’m not sure. I think I hoped the snake would give up and slither away, but I was not so lucky. I was getting ready to run when it attacked. The speed stunned me and the distance it covered surprised me even though I knew enough to understand that snakes had a long striking distance.

I doubt I would have been able to move out of the way in time. I don’t know what would have happened. Being so small and so far from help I don’t know if I would have been found in time or if I would have curled up and died on that path.

I didn’t have the opportunity to find out. As I stood there cringing against the expectation of pain Duke shot out and charged the snake. It slipped backward as he chased it off into the brush and out of my view. I didn’t get to see much, I think I was too stunned to take it all in. I do remember hearing him growl and bark at the predator and that it was a very frightening sound.

Once again I waited. I didn’t turn and run as I might have been better off doing. I think I wanted to make sure that it was safe, but also that Duke was okay.

After a few minutes the giant dog returned to the path, seemingly unscathed. He stood right in front of me looking at my face and I merely gazed at him, really getting to see him from that angle for the first time. I dropped to me knees in the path. I don’t think I intended to, but I was much shaken. Duke got closer and licked my face. He was panting pretty hard and though is breath was awful I don’t think it bothered me in the slightest.

I reached out then to stroke his face; he licked my hand and allowed me to touch his fur, though I still don’t believe he was ever much for pats.

~

When I finally got up, the three of us turned and followed the path back to the house. After a while I heard yelling and eventually yelling that I recognized as my name being called. At some point I remember knowing that I would be in trouble and feeling a little unhappy about getting back now that I knew I was on the right track, but with one hand on Duke I still felt happy enough.

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I did get in trouble, but my parents were more worried than angry as parents so often are.

I didn’t mention the snake. I honestly thought I would be in more trouble, so I just left out the details. Duke didn’t follow me in the gate as the other dog did. He watched from outside as the grownups made a fuss about my return and the other children gawked at me, probably waiting to hear how much trouble I was in.

Duke stayed just outside, but he kept watching. I didn’t lose sight of him until just before we went inside and as we reached the door he took off back towards the woods we had walked through. Despite everything that had happened I remember very much wishing I could go with him. It would be a long time before I saw him again and the last time I would see him in a living form.

Goodbye for now, another end.
Until a time we meet again.

-Seline

For a long time I didn’t know for certain that what I was seeing was real. I guess I didn’t exactly suspect that I was insane, or having hallucinations, but I didn’t know that each paranormal experience had anything to do with something more than my own mind.

One day that all changed and a began to better understand both my ability to see ghosts, or other beings in general and that I had to be careful with what I said and how I reacted.

I was about 8 or 9 years old when this event took place and had become somewhat accustom to seeing animals that I knew weren’t exactly there, or at the very least weren’t there for others to see.

Sitting in my room, probably playing with My Little Ponies, I noticed that my aunt’s dog had come into the room and seemed to be finding a place to settle in and go to sleep. It was a small dog, a terrier of some kind and though I wasn’t alarmed, I was immediately alerted to the fact that something was wrong.

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My aunt you see had never brought her dog to our house. She did not travel with her pup as some women do with their little purse-sized animal decorations (not that it can’t be cute, but the way they toss them around sometimes seems cruel to me.)

I sat there, paused in my play and watched as the animal curled up close to me on the rug and then looked up at me with those wonderful glossy eyes. I don’t know how many minutes passed as my youthful brain tried to grasp what was happening and why it was different from all of the other random animals I had seen.

After a time I got up and went into my father’s study. I remember watching him from the doorway, contemplating how to ask the question I needed to ask. As I stood there, he finally looked up and asked what was on my mind. I guess my face is rather an open book and he knew I was troubled by something, or perhaps all parents can read their children easily.

I know I hesitated. I remember that well. When I finally spoke I remember how calmly he took it. I would guess by then it was no longer a shock to him. Perhaps he had known for sometime what I was just then figuring out.

I simply asked my father if my aunt’s dog was dead.

He told me it had died that morning and that my mother had gone over to comfort her sister after such a heartbreaking loss.

I’m not sure if all children are strange creatures, or even if all children can see ghost dogs, but I know I didn’t want to tell him why I wanted to know. He suspected at the time and years later during one of our famous late night chats I confirmed my father’s suspicions by telling my side of the tale.

It was a monumental moment in my life and at the time I think I knew that a little, but nowhere near as much as I would come to understand later on.

After sitting with my father for a few minutes in silence, I jumped down from his lap and went back into my room. The dog, who I only ever heard called Pudding by the way, was still in my room when I returned. He looked up at me and I smiled at him before returning to my play.

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At some point Pudding left and I never saw him again. I have often wondered why he chose to come to me. We were not close, though I did always like him. Our house had not been his home, nor had I been the one to feed, play and adore him for most of his life. Perhaps he just needed to be seen one last time. Whatever the reason I have always been grateful to him for that day, it allowed me to begin seeing things very differently. I’ll have to remember to tell him some day.

Goodbye for now, another end.
Until a time we meet again.

-Seline

For many years I experienced paranormal events without really considering what others saw or heard or how my own actions were viewed by those around me. This is perhaps one of the joys of being a child, long before peer pressure and societal impositions. Haunted kids can enjoy the freedom of interacting with supernatural events without understanding the skepticism that they will encounter later in life. For the purposes of experience this is a wonderful thing, to collect data, perhaps more of a balance is necessary.

This blissful state in which I paid little attention to what others thought all came to a screeching halt one day when I was on the playground at school. It was midday and a nice sunny one if I remember correctly.

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I noticed a cat wandering across the blacktop where we played foursquare and tetherball and speculated over what we might do as grownups. It wasn’t very out of place, a cat trotting around, as our school yard was near a park and many houses and not entirely enclosed.

Naturally being an animal lover I walked over the little tabby, grayish white, and leaned down to pet it. The cat seemed to approve of this and rolled onto its’ back, giving me the all clear for a belly rub.

I sat there for a few minutes petting the cat and listening to it purr. After a time one of my friends came up behind me and asked me what  I was doing. This was a difficult question to answer. Not because my friend didn’t believe in real hauntings or ghosts, but because I had no idea what she meant. Yes, I thought the cat was real.

I would have to venture a guess that this wasn’t the first time I had touched a ghost animal, but perhaps the first time anyone had witnessed me doing it. I’m not certain what I might have done had I known the cat wasn’t the type others could see, but I clearly remember having no idea what my friend found so perplexing about petting a cat.

I think at the time I said something brilliant like “huh?” My friend repeated herself, looking in the spot where my hands played with what I assume she saw as nothing.

Then lightning struck, I got it.

It was one of those moments in life when you are taken completely unaware and then have no idea how to react. It was horrible at the time and a little funny to me now.

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I believe I got out of the situation by telling her something incredibly clever and elusive like “nothing.” I then got up and went back to whatever game we felt like playing and my friend said nothing more about it.

The cat watched me go and eventually got up and lazily walked away and off of our playground. The incident itself was really nothing unusual for that time of my life, but it taught me a valuable lesson about being careful in front of others. One that I would have to come across again and again as adulthood approached and with it a real need to be cautious.

Goodbye for now, another end.
Until a time we meet again.

-Seline

When I was very young, probably six or seven years old, my parents got a couple of birds and hung a birdcage in our family room where the birds lived. I remember when they first arrived in our house being very excited about having them, but to be honest now I can’t even remember their names.

I believe there were just two birds, but what type I couldn’t say now. I would guess my parents remember, though as it isn’t particularly important to the story, we will just keep it at birds in general.

We had the birds for some time; I think I even got to help feed and water the cage, though I doubt I did this very often.

One day I noticed that one of the birds looked funny, not quite right, but being small I don’t think I mentioned anything about it to my parents. I do remember that the bird looked strange for some time and I began to accept that this was simply the way the bird looked all the time and became used to the idea.

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On several occasions I noticed that the strange looking bird seemed to be watching more than it used to. I know I spoke to it when passing the cage and I remember it responding with soft tweets and chirps.

On one bright and sunny day I came into the living room where my parents were reading quietly and saw that the strange bird was no longer in the cage, but sitting on top of a bookshelf. I don’t remember if I thought this was wrong, but I do remember knowing it was out of the ordinary. I walked over to it and spoke to it and the little bird answered and fluttered its’ wings.

I remember my father giving me an odd look. He asked me what I was doing and I explained I was talking to the bird. I believe he returned to his book because I don’t think anything more came of it.

Soon after that day my parents sat me down and explained that one of the birds had died several weeks before. Even as they spoke I remember seeing both birds in the cage, resting calmly as though nothing in the world was out of the ordinary.

At the time I doubt it ever occurred to me that I could see spirits of the dead, or that I was in fact seeing the bird who had passed.

In later years I would recall these memories and have my parents explain a few things. One, why they took so long to tell me and two what exactly my father thought I was talking to on that sunny day by the bookshelf. The answer to the first was that they were hoping I would notice and come to them, that this would somehow ease the shock. The answer to the second was that my father understood I could see things from time to time and wanted a chance to speak with my mother alone before bringing anything up. You see now how the second event triggered the first.

When we spoke of these events, my parents and I, I explained that not only was the bird around on the day they told me it had passed, but for quite a long time after. Being young it is difficult to mark the time in actual dates, but I can remember the little bird hanging out on the bookshelf as long after as the following holiday season. I can still see it watching me as I opened gifts from under the tree. I have been informed now that this means that what I was seeing managed to linger for at least seven months.

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I can’t recall when I stopped seeing the little bird, or when it went away. I honestly can’t even recall when its’ friend must have passed on as well and the cage was removed from the general scenery of our home.

What I do remember, quite clearly is watching the two birds interact. The living one clearly still saw or felt the presence of its’ friend and I know that long after I had been told that only one bird should be in the cage I used to find it comforting that the two still had each other.

Though this certainly wasn’t the first of the paranormal events that would be a constant in my life, it was the first experience I can recall with an animal ghost, or at least so I came to believe. In the years that followed I would have a better idea of what was seeing, but for that time, it was nice just to know that friends never quite lose each other.

Goodbye for now, another end.
Until a time we meet again.

-Seline

I suppose to go back to very earliest paranormal event of my life that I know of I would need to go back to a time when I couldn’t even get out of my own crib. My parents and I lived in a big house in a quiet neighborhood where I’m sure I spent many happy days as a drooling, dark eyed baby.

This story both my mother and father can confirm and mention from time to time when we’re discussing things that go bump in the night. They still seem to feel that something darker was implied by this event and even though I was there I honestly couldn’t say if I felt the same way. My folks also agree that I seemed to be the draw, again youth being the target of fascination or for some other reason we may not even fathom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For several weeks things in our house had been missing here and there, turning up in the strangest of places.  Many objects were also in their places, but moved very deliberately. Some of these objects were within my reach and others were not. It happened one day that my parents asked me about one in particular that they thought I might have moved. I told them it wasn’t me, probably in my most elegant baby-babble and claimed it was something else.

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What the something else was they never got out of me. I imagine I could explain quite a bit better now, but again, I have no memory of this.

The event that finally convinced them that something was wrong was the day my father woke up to find every single picture in the house turned upside-down. Obviously it couldn’t have been me and my mother was away on business. No one else lived in our house, or even came in to deliver or perform any other sort of service during this time. The house was not broken into either.

To make matters particularly interesting one rather heavy print was not only upside-down, but completely above the nail on which it had been hung. Resting against the wall, held up by only the very edge of the nail this feat was not impossible, but my father said, try as he might, he could never reproduce it.

Was the home we lived in at the time actually haunted? That I may never know. I do know that during this time period I seemed to talk to walls and doorways a great deal, a habit which my parents later came to think might have been something more than it seemed.

I can tell you that there were no records of anyone dying in the house and I have come to think that this was again and event that cannot necessarily be assumed to be a ghost haunting, or any type of haunting for that matter. There may exist some explanation for what my father found, but to do this day we have none. I can only say that during that time of my life I was happy and I believe on good terms with whatever was existing within our home.

Goodbye for now, another end.
Until a time we meet again.

-Seline

When I was about 6 or 7 years old I did something that I think every child has to do at least once in their life. I ran out into the street without looking. It was stupid and thoughtless, but like so many children I had my mind on the game and when the ball rolled onto the pavement I thought nothing of the oncoming traffic on my quiet little street.

It happened that just as I went running after that red ball, a car came speeding down the road. You can imagine what was about to happen. I had time to pause, bouncy ball in my hands, and stare at the oncoming vehicle.

I remember not moving, not having time to move. I can’t remember the sounds that car made or even what type of car it was, though it was dark in color.

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Within a second, maybe two I was yanked backward, off of my feet and all the way back to the patch of grass next to the road. It was as if a good ghost had grabbed me by the back of my shirt and pulled with a force so great that I was tossed back a few feet to safety.

I remember not even getting a cut or scrape though I’m not quite sure how I managed it. All I knew was that I had almost gotten hurt and that something had pulled me back.

There were no other people about when this happened, nor did the car stop. I would imagine that the people inside the vehicle may have honked at me, but I honestly don’t remember.

The house in which I lived at the time I couldn’t exactly describe as one of the haunted locations where I would live later on, but I did see, hear and feel things from time to time. I moved quite often growing up and I believe that unless something was constant and bold I might have let it go, practically unnoticed while I lived my life.

I cannot precisely say what I experienced was a real haunting or what it was that pulled me back. Those theories are for another time. All I can say is that as I sat there on the ground, my young mind trying to comprehend what had just happened, I felt safe and happy. Whatever or whoever it was, I was very fortunate that day and I give me thanks to whatever prevented that potential disaster.

Goodbye for now, another end.
Until a time we meet again.

-Seline

Some of the earliest memories I have of seeing paranormal beings are hard to understand simply because I didn’t know what I was seeing at the time. To a small child it may not be uncommon to see spirits or the ghosts of those who perhaps knew the child at one time. There exists a wealth of information showing that throughout history it is believed that younger human beings are for some reason able to tap into the existence of things we understand less and less as adults.

This post is not however for theories, this is about the experiences themselves and so I will try to explain what I believe is the earliest one in my memory.

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Though in time the majority of what I would see as a child would have largely to do with animal spirits, my first experience was with that of what I have come to believe now was a ghost.

Every day, at about the age of 5, my mother walked me to school and I have fond memories of those solitary mornings where it seemed that she and I were practically the only people in the world. Please understand that nothing about these mornings seemed frightening, or even out of the ordinary at the time.

Each memory is similar in that we walked the same way each day, passing landmarks which at that age would be the only way for me to know where we were. Over time I believe I have clumped most of these into one type of day, in that I have great difficulty trying to separate a sunny day from a rainy one and all days seem to be of a muddled gray to me now.

The clearest part of these days is how happy my mother seemed to me and how much I looked forward to these walks. The second clearest part would be that of the older woman we passed each day near the church that was on our route. Each time we walked by I would wave to her, and she to me. Sometimes she would be standing, other times sitting on the cement steps leading to the entrance.

This minute exchange probably went on for months and the woman quickly became a normal part of the usual walk-to-school scenery.

On one particular day I remember I wanted to stop and give the woman a Valentine’s Day card of which I had many in my bag for school. I remember thinking about this, though naturally my exact thoughts have become muddled over time as I would hope my vocabulary has expanded somewhat. I do specifically remember the excitement. It was as if I had an excuse to now do more than just wave at this figure who I had come to expect and enjoy seeing each day.

As my mother and I approached the woman I remember her face was not the usual bright smile I was accustoms to, but a serious and even foreboding look. I began to pull away from my mother and simultaneously explain about giving the woman the card when the woman suddenly moved to the door of the church. It was too fast. This is when I believe I knew that what I had thought to be just a friendly old woman who happened to hang out in front of the church everyday was something else.

I know I asked my mother about her, because I remember that she did not understand. Realizations of this nature are difficult to process when you’re young, however I believe that age also allows for a certain kind of acceptance that later years will not provide and we walked on with my pressing the issue.

The only other part of this memory that I believe bears mentioning is that as we passed the church doors, which I would have sworn were closed, slammed shut. I know that mother heard this as well because we both turned and because I remember looking to her for confirmation, perhaps to understand whether or not the doors closing has been another part of that not quite there section of life.

I can honesty tell you I don’t know if I ever saw the woman again. Whether some of those memories I have that are now all jumbled together came after this event or all before I do not know for certain. What I do know is that the true realization that I was seeing and hearing things other did not would come much later in life. The other thing I know is that I kept that card for a very long time and found it many years later stashed amongst some early school papers. I had addressed it to Martha.

Goodbye for now, another end.

Until a time we meet again.

-Seline