Having lived in haunted houses before, finding an unhaunted house was high on my list of priorities when looking for a new place to live. When we found our new house, one of the reasons I liked it so much was because it seemed to be something of a clean slate. The house is only 13 years old (which is no guarantee) but I couldn't sense anything negative or positive about it, and my youngest son never expressed any uneasy feelings, either. It seemed to be the perfect place.
Not long after moving in, my wife told me she had been seeing movement out of the corner of her eye quite a bit, but I still hadn't experienced anything unusual until the other day when I saw a chihuahua walking toward me from the dining room. We don't have a chihuahua, but the previous owners had five or six.
If the ghost of a chihuahua is the worst I have to deal with, I can live with that. But this past Saturday morning, something even more strange happened. My work ID disappeared right out of my hand. Seriously. I was holding it one minute, and the next minute I wasn't. I couldn't remember where I had set it down. I searched the house top to bottom. I looked everywhere I had been since I picked it up. It was gone.
Sunday night I found it at the bottom of the kitchen junk drawer. I don't remember putting it there. I'm pretty sure I didn't put it there. So, apparently my prankster spirit has finally tracked me down. This is how it began last time - when my car keys disappeared for a day.
Alas.
1 comment:
If the ghost of a chihuahua is the worst I have to deal with, I can live with that.
Provided it doesn't slime the carpet.
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