dog ghost visitation
2021-05-12, 4:45 p.m.

It's been a month or so since my dog passed away. It still feels strange to say he's no longer here. I still remember everything about him, including the smell on the top of his head and the ways his coat would change through the seasons. And the way he would daintily swish his tail to welcome me to my mother's house, glossy brown eyes hidden beneath a shock of white highlighted emo bang.

When I was a sophomore in undergrad there was a book sale in the rotunda and while i didn't anticipate i would find anything interesting, I had nothing better to do in a four hour break between classes. So I found myself browsing dark bookshelves dragged out of some deep corner of the library. Tucked in a corner between larger volumes was a frail and delicate, slightly yellowed vintage copy of Platero and I. I loved that book, even when it ended so sadly and I brushed a tear away wherever I was. The heartbreak of loving an animal companion is well communicated. I've lost great animal friends, a scarlet fighting fish, a hamster, two white mice I trained to do tricks, but losing this dog is painful. A decade of time where i grew up and he saw it all. i had our whole summer planned out. Now i go to the pharmacy to print pictures of him each Friday as though it is a mass. A holy communion with my friend and brother, hoping he sees that I'm thinking of him and visits me.

Yesterday I closed the drapes to block the sounds of the cars on wet pavement, a big anxiety trigger for my dad's dog. She sat beneath the pictures i had printed last Friday. A small white orb flew from the blackout drape to her chest. She barked and then rolled over. I checked the drape. No way for lights to get in. And no lights after that. I think it was him