It wasn't that long ago if said the word ghost to me I would automatically "say your crazy, no such thing, go smoke another one " That was until the following had occurred. Living where I do, you seldom ever get an unexpected visitor. Just me, my family, and the cows. It was late October and I had stayed home sick from work that day. Truth be told I was just tired from not sleeping the night before.
I kept thinking I was hearing someone in the house that night, not any particular noise. It was a shuffle hear, a slight cough there and on a few occasions I thought I heard my nickname being said. Every time I heard a noise I would get out of bed and try to find whatever was making the racket. My boys were sound asleep, but my dog was whining and hiding underneath her dog bed. Didn't really think much of it. She hates when it storms so I thought maybe there was one coming in and I just didn't hear the thunder yet. Well the storm never came and the noises happened all night long. I woke my husband up a few times, he said it was just the house settling. I knew it wasn't the house settling, but I did my best to ignore it and sleep.
I spent most of the next day on the couch sleeping on and off. Around 2:30pm (and yes I remember the time vividly) I took my dog out for a walk. Let me begin by explaining that my dog is very very protective of me so much to the point where if anyone comes near me she will growl and snip. After coming inside my dog went crazy and ran into the hallway leading from my living room to the two other bedrooms in my house. Growling, barking, snarling. This was not my how my dog acted unless she felt threatened.
I walked very cautiously into the area to see what was going on and nothing was there, but my dog wouldn't let me go into the hallway. It scared me enough that I got my pistol out and proceeded to grab my dog and lock her up in her cage. Let me stop you right there... When you live as far as I do out in the country you have to have protection whether it be from strangers that mean you harm to a random rogue alligator in your backyard threatening the safety of your family or animals. On average it would take a police officer 45 minutes to get to where we are located. Being that my father was a cop I am very well versed in weapons and their safety. So please don't think I grabbed a gun not knowing how or when to use it properly... Now on with the rest of the story I just knew someone had came into my home when I was walking my dog around the back of my house.
I called my mother who was at work and made her stay on the phone as I investigated every room. Not like she could do anything, she was at least 45 minutes away, but I needed some emotional support. I even scoped out my 8ft by 6ft laundry room. I found Nothing, absolutely nothing, not a single thing out of place. Nothing was wrong so why is my dog still freaking out?
Processing the fact no one else was there scared me even more because when I was younger I had a dog do something similar only to find out it was going nuts because a snake had gotten into our home. So now I'm looking in every little nook just knowing some gross snake had slithered its way into my home and was going to bite me on the butt. Pistol still in hand. After I exhausted every place to search, I returned the gun back to the safe. Put towels under the doors in case it was a snake that I couldn't find (that job would be left for my husband). He would have to be the big bad snake hunter, I wanted no part in that.
This entire time my dog is still freaking out. I decided to take her outside again. Maybe calm both of our nerves. I want you to know at this point in time the word "ghost" never popped into my mind. After several minutes outside we came back in. This time she wouldn't leave my side and had a low gutter growl. I walked past the hallway only to find something in the middle of the hallway that was not there before. I stood there in shock knowing what I was seeing was gut wrenchingly real and there was only one way it could have gotten there, impossible as it may seem.
It was a small stuffed cow that had a ruffly white dress. After my father had passed several years before, my sister had made it for the top of my Christmas tree so that he would always be apart of our Christmases. The dress was made out of my fathers old handkerchiefs he would wear with his police uniform. I kept this cow out year round, but just recently I put it on top of a bookshelf towards the back and put several fall decorations around the sides of it and in front of it. Actually you couldn't even see the cow because of the decorations. There was no possible way it could have fallen, been blown, or even knocked down. Everything on top of that shelf was the exact same as it was before. It was like someone stood on a ladder picked the cow up and placed it standing straight up in the exact middle of the hallway floor. God as my witness, it was in the middle of my floor. Bewildered, confused, astonished, frightened, and any and all adjectives that can describe complete and utter shock can be inserted here.
My dog still growling now also started towards the cow. The closer she got the hair on her back was standing up and the growl turned into a whine. I followed her and when we reached the cow I immediately picked the cow up (without any fear) and began to sob. Hysterically sob, uncontrollably sob, the type of sobbing you do when you have lost someone you loved with all of your heart.
At that moment I felt my father was there, I could smell his cigarette smoke. I swear to you I could smell him. He smoked a very distinctive brand of cigarettes. Here is the kicker... For several weeks before this had happened every once in a while all of us in the house would catch a hint of cigarette smoke. Only for a brief moment and then it would disappear. It seemed to happen when we all were in the dining room. (Where the cow was before I moved her to the bookshelf. I had never put it all together until several weeks after.) I had quit two years before and never ever smoked inside, so while we went nuts trying to figure out where it was coming from we just attributed it to a really really old cigarette butt being somewhere we couldn't see. That\'s plausible, Right?
I know how crazy this all sounds, I am not one of those people that put stock in hauntings, ghost spirits, monsters under the bed. I am a God loving Christen, I believe in the Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit. Not the spirit that goes bump in the night, But there was no explanation for what happened and how I felt. I feel as if my father was unhappy with me for putting him where he couldn't see us and keep an eye on us.
The cow stayed out on top of the bookshelf, but I put her front and center for all to see and for it to see all. It went on top of the tree as it normally does and when I took the tree down she was put on a shelf in the family room. Not a single peep from the cow and no cigarette smoke smell either. So whatever it was seems to be appeased now, or so I thought.
There have been a few other things that have happened recently that have brought all this back up. One night me my husband and son all fell asleep out in our living room watching TV. Something we do most weekends. Me and my husband were awakened to a sound of something tearing. I got up and looked around and found (in that same hallway) a wall decal that has the definition of family on it had been pealed off the wall. Not fell, but pealed. It wasn't a fast noise like it had lost grip on my wall and fell off. But instead it was slow, and drawn out. I could have sworn I heard someone say my name right after it hit the ground. I put the decal back up and it has not "fell" again. The next morning I went into the hallway to try and explain away what had happened the night before. Looking all around I noticed my cow had been moved back to the top of the bookshelf in the hallway and the box where I keep my fathers obituary and picture was open. It was on the same bookshelf in the same hallway with the same hint of cigarette smoke.
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