That Year With The Hounds

I have always been interested in the paranormal, and have had a few experiences. I am always excited when I experience something I believe to be "unusual", but quick to analyze or try to explain it.

The following chain of events took place two years ago over a one year period.

My friend Tom had accepted an offer of employment that would take him away from home for a year. Instead of closing his home and boarding his two precious basset hound companions, Tom asked if I would move in and care for his home and it's four legged occupants. I agreed and took up residence with my own two furry friends.

Upon entering Tom's home, there was a staircase on the left which led up to the three bedrooms and bathroom. The master bathroom was down the hall to the right, and to the left of the hall were the remaining two bedrooms and bathroom. You could gaze down upon the living room from the balcony that was part of the upstairs hallway.

I never felt comfortable upstairs, and avoided that part of the house if I could. Often, when sitting on the sofa downstairs, I would feel like I was being watched. Perhaps by someone standing on the upstairs balcony. It was an overbearing feeling. Almost one of judgement and scrutiny. On some occasions the feeling would be so intense that I would whip around expecting to see someone, but no such sighting ever occurred.

Every evening Tom's dog, Trixie, would migrate upstairs to sleep on his bed, and every evening as she reached his room she would stand at the doorway and bark. I suppose this would not normally bother me, but what did bother me was the rustling sound that would follow. Like she had caught someone in the act of something they shouldn't be doing. She seemed to watch something going on in the room, and then would walk in and go to sleep. This routine was always a bit unnerving, but eventually I dismissed it as my imagination.

The incident that really caught my attention took place on a gorgeous spring afternoon. I was in the middle of a sumptuous nap when I woke to the sound of more than one set of little footsteps bounding up and down the stairs. The footsteps repeated again and again. Up and down, over and over. I assumed the dogs were playing tag and sat up on the couch to put an end to this bothersome game. Instead of the naughty little dogs that I expected to see, there was nothing. I was baffled, especially when I remembered that I had locked the dogs in the garden because of the beautiful weather. Whoever the culprit (s) of these unwelcome noises were, could not have been my canine friends.

The next occurance still strikes me as funny and remains my favorite. The upstairs bathroom was home to an elaborate sequined shower curtain that would never stay on the rod. At least once a week, I would find the shower curtain on the bathroom floor in a beautiful mess. It was never torn or damaged. It would just never stay hanging and I could not come up with an explanation as to why.

I began to really consider these events and they seemed to me to be the behavior of misbehaving children. This final experience seemed to confirm my suspicion. I was in the kitchen, heading to the oven to retrieve the evening meal when I suddenly felt a sharp tug on my shirt. My shirt was yanked down, not out, as if by someone shorter than I. The light short giggle that followed sent a chill down my spine as I shouted out "that's not nice"!

Similar events took place the rest of that year, and I made my peace with the idea that I may be caring for more than just basset hounds, but it still makes me uncomfortable when I think of the presence on the upstairs balcony.