SUMMARY: My dogs' ghosts inhabit my life; do yours?
Disclaimer: I do not believe in ghosts. And yet--
For months after Sheba was gone, whenever I made popcorn, I heard her toenails trotting down the hallway for a snack. For months after Remington was gone, I swear that I heard him behind me turning his head and shifting his weight to see the cattle on either side of the car. Tika and Boost, in life, traveled maybe hundreds of times in the crates in the back of my car; now, I hardly take the new dogs anywhere, and yet I hear dogs resettling themselves in the crates as I drive.
These do not strike me as unhappy ghosts, just revisiting some pleasurable things before moving on.
[Repost from my Facebook page]