My Dog Sees Dead People
If you have a dog at home you already know that they do all kinds of weird things. Lick their butt on your sofa. Bark when the doorbell rings. Eat rancid, unidentifiable food off of the sidewalk.
Maybe it is just my dog?
In any case, every so often I catch Chloe sitting in the middle of the floor staring very, very intently at absolutely nothing. Like so intently that sometimes I have to say her name a couple of times before I am able to break her from her creepy doggie trance, and even then she looks at me for a few seconds as if to say "Why in the world did you interrupt me? I was staring!" If she could, I think she would roll her eyes.
I have given a lot of thought to this staring thing and have concluded that there is really only one possible explanation.
My dog sees dead people.
Clearly my house is full of ghosts, long gone Williamsburg hipsters who have left this world for good, but still decided to pop in from time to time for some cold brew and 1980's t-shirts. I mean honestly, it is the only thing that makes sense. Why else would she just stare off into space like that? She is obviously waiting for the ghost of Brooklyn past to toss her a dog biscuit, or scratch her behind the ears like she likes, or to explain exactly what is it with all the skinny jeans.
So yeah, my apartment is haunted. But there are some other cool things going on here this morning. For the past year or so I have been attempting, to mixed success, to add a daily meditation practice to my morning routine. So after checking email, drinking coffee and catching up on my dose of stupid things people say on Facebook, I attempt to sit still and breathe. Some days I am actually able to just breathe, to focus on the slow rising and falling of my belly and the tingle in my nose as the air flows in and out. Other days I need a more tangible thing to grab onto, and for me that thing is often sounds. There are so many of them here!
Here are all the sounds I can identify right this minute, here in my Brooklyn apartment:
A truck driving by
My dog snoring
My daughter giggling in her room, on a Facetime call with her best friends
The water running in the neighbors' upstairs bathroom
Two different birds singing two completely different songs
From my spot on the couch I also have a perfect view of the tree outside my bedroom window. Yellowish-green leaves are gently shaking in the morning breeze. I can't see any details from this distance, so it just looks like a blanket of green, wiggling in the sunshine.
So there you have it. My dog sees ghosts. I see leaves dancing.
I am not sure which one of us is weirder.
Maybe it is just my dog?
In any case, every so often I catch Chloe sitting in the middle of the floor staring very, very intently at absolutely nothing. Like so intently that sometimes I have to say her name a couple of times before I am able to break her from her creepy doggie trance, and even then she looks at me for a few seconds as if to say "Why in the world did you interrupt me? I was staring!" If she could, I think she would roll her eyes.
I have given a lot of thought to this staring thing and have concluded that there is really only one possible explanation.
My dog sees dead people.
Clearly my house is full of ghosts, long gone Williamsburg hipsters who have left this world for good, but still decided to pop in from time to time for some cold brew and 1980's t-shirts. I mean honestly, it is the only thing that makes sense. Why else would she just stare off into space like that? She is obviously waiting for the ghost of Brooklyn past to toss her a dog biscuit, or scratch her behind the ears like she likes, or to explain exactly what is it with all the skinny jeans.
So yeah, my apartment is haunted. But there are some other cool things going on here this morning. For the past year or so I have been attempting, to mixed success, to add a daily meditation practice to my morning routine. So after checking email, drinking coffee and catching up on my dose of stupid things people say on Facebook, I attempt to sit still and breathe. Some days I am actually able to just breathe, to focus on the slow rising and falling of my belly and the tingle in my nose as the air flows in and out. Other days I need a more tangible thing to grab onto, and for me that thing is often sounds. There are so many of them here!
Here are all the sounds I can identify right this minute, here in my Brooklyn apartment:
A truck driving by
My dog snoring
My daughter giggling in her room, on a Facetime call with her best friends
The water running in the neighbors' upstairs bathroom
Two different birds singing two completely different songs
From my spot on the couch I also have a perfect view of the tree outside my bedroom window. Yellowish-green leaves are gently shaking in the morning breeze. I can't see any details from this distance, so it just looks like a blanket of green, wiggling in the sunshine.
So there you have it. My dog sees ghosts. I see leaves dancing.
I am not sure which one of us is weirder.
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