The Night My Dog Spoke to Me

If I had a category for wacky things that most people wouldn’t believe even if I told them, that’s exactly where this post would be filed.

Now I’ll admit I have a non-traditional view of religion and spirituality but I’m pretty comfortable with that. As a former scientist and science teacher, it would be easy for me to say that things don’t exist unless they can be proven. It sure would make life much neater that way.

Instead, I look for miracles and signs and the unexplained because I’ve found that, surprisingly, they’re everywhere if you’re looking for them. This happened just last week when I’m pretty sure my dog spoke to me.

Let me first explain that I do think there is this weird connections between humans and animals. You can read story after story about pets rescuing their owners. You can call it instinct or a sixth sense but I feel pretty certain that connection exists.

A few years ago, I was visiting someone who is considered a psychic and also an animal lover. During my reading, we talked a bit about pets. She said that we have the ability to communicate with pets through “mind pictures.” In other words, if we focus on a specific picture of a situation in our minds, it can help our pets better understand what’s going on around them.

For example, if you were to go away on a trip, you might focus on an image of you leaving through your front door, the sun setting and rising, and then you coming back through the front door. Basically, you’re telling your pet you’ll be gone for one night. It helps to ease the anxiety of your pet thinking that when you leave, you might never come back. (Ever notice how dogs especially act like you’re a long lost friend when you simply return from a quick trip to the grocery store?)

Now, if you think I’m totally crazy at this point, that’s okay. Because none of this is critical to the story. It does come into play later.

Here’s how the night in question went down, chronologically speaking.

It’s Thursday night of last week and I’m exhausted from the routine of school. I’m not a morning person and I always run late. So I’ve been getting up a little earlier every day to make mornings a little easier and it’s actually working. But by Thursday, I collapse into bed at the relatively early hour of 10pm. As I’m falling asleep, I say to my husband that Emma probably needs to go out one last time.

Emma, for those of you that don’t know, is a toy poodle that I picked up from a rescue group about 4 years ago. She came to me with no teeth and a cataract in one eye. She was a puppy mill breeder dog that had a pretty rough life up until that point. I thought we were perfect for each other. Since that time, she’s lost her vision completely in one eye from glaucoma and developed an advanced cataract in the other. Yes, she’s a blind, toothless dog.

Our routine is that we carry her outside and gently set her in the same part of the grass. She wanders a little, does her thing, and finds her way back up onto our porch when she’s ready to come in. Sometimes she’s quick. Sometimes, not so much. Back to Thursday night…

While I rested in slumber, my husband, Sean, places Emma out on the front lawn. She’s wandering. It’s clearly not going to be a quick trip. He goes back in the house and sits down in front of the computer, most likely on Facebook. Sometime later, the exact amount of time is fuzzy, Sean goes upstairs with our younger, vibrant dog, Roscoe, and then snuggles in bed for a good night’s rest. Without Emma.

I sleep soundly that night, even forgetting to set my alarm for 7:20am. As early morning arrives, I’m finishing up the last of my vivid dreams.

In my dream, we’ve moved to a new town. I decide to walk my son to school. Without knowing the address, I wander the city streets of town trying to figure out where the school is. I remember a street called Colorado Street (probably irrelevant), some shopping centers, and a sketchy part of town. There’s ALWAYS a sketchy part of town in my dreams.

I finally find the elementary school and it’s located in a big warehouse with large garage doors, much like a mechanic’s garage. I enter the school office and find out that Sean has already taken Evan to school but left his lunch in the office. As I’m looking at his lunchbox, my dog Emma walks into the building. I turn and say, “Emma! What are you doing here?” I leave the lunchbox and tell Emma we’re going outside and she excitedly exits the building.

We walk outside and it’s a beautiful tree-lined street that’s a bit overgrown. Grass is growing up through what looks like cobblestone. The curbs are covered in thick ivy and the entire street is shaded. Suddenly, Emma takes off running. She’s running along the edge of the school’s grassy sports field. I yell after her because I know she can’t see and I’m worried she’ll fall off of the curb. Which she does. And she keeps running as I’m calling after her.

Suddenly, a woman and her two young kids are also walking along the street towards me. Emma gets lost in the ivy and the woman apologizes saying that her dog, a small dachshund, must have scared Emma. She reaches down into the ivy and hands Emma to me. And then suddenly…

There’s a knock at the door. Only I’m back to real life. There really IS a knock at the door. In my waking moments, I wonder why someone would be knocking at my door before 7:20am. It’s either an idiot or an emergency. Or I’ve overslept. I look at the clock and it’s 8:12am.

I stumble out of bed and run to the front door. It’s my neighbor. And her two small children. And her small dog. And she has found Emma down by her house and has brought her home to me.

Apparently, Sean forgot to let Emma back in the house the night before. My blind, toothless dog was left to wander around all night with the foxes and snakes and raccoons and hawks and owls and maybe even coyotes out there.

My mind races. I realize what has happened. I’m in a stupor because I overslept. I’m in a state of disbelief because Sean left her out all night. And I’m a bit freaked out because I remember every second of my dream. I give a synopsis of the dream to my neighbor who, luckily, doesn’t think I’m a nut and doesn’t even seem to mind how bad I look when I roll out of bed.

I thank her profusely and take Emma inside.

(Side note: if you ever want your pet to truly appreciate you, leave them out all night. They’ll never be so happy to be inside again.)

So what of the dream? Was Emma was sending me mind pictures? Was it all just some huge strange coincidence?

Whatever you believe, you can be sure of this. My husband deserves some public shaming. In deference to the site Dog Shaming, I made him pose for this picture and hope that in some way it makes Emma feel a bit better. If she could actually see it, that is.