I closed the door, put my bowl of candy on the table, and returned to the sofa to wait for the next batch of trick-or-treaters. My cocker spaniel was right behind me, and I expected him to plop back on the seat next to me. Instead, my dog walked to the opposite end of the sofa, stood in front of the empty seat, and put his head down on the cushion. He remained there, perfectly still and perfectly content, facing the empty seat for several moments. I had never seen him do that before. The only time my dog stood like that was when he put his head on someone’s lap to get petted. I was very curious but not alarmed. After a while, my dog lifted his head off the sofa cushion and jumped up on the seat next to me.
Trick-or-treaters came and went the rest of that Halloween evening, and it passed without incident. My dog was his same old self for the rest of the night, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what I had seen him do. It wasn’t beyond me to think that a spirit had been on the sofa petting my dog’s head. With my third eye, I could see who the spirit was.
The next day, I told a friend who is psychic what my dog had done. He told me that every year around Halloween, the veil between the worlds of the living and the dead thins. This makes it possible for spirits who have crossed over to come and visit the world of the living.
What my friend told me gave me chills, but I remembered that I didn’t feel scared the night before. If what I saw with my third eye was real, then the spirit who was petting my dog was a loved one who likes dogs. My dog hadn’t been afraid; he had been perfectly calm.
Ever since that Halloween, I’ve been conscious of the veil that thins during the last days of October. I watch my dog for signs that he’s being visited. I’m still learning to use and to trust my third eye, but I rely on my sensations of uneasiness, apprehension, and fear to keep myself, my family, and my home safe. Like a third eye, fear is a tool. A tool that helps with things you can’t see is a useful tool.
© Living off Island, Writing Wahine, 2015.