Phantom Felines And Other Ghostly Animals - Gerina Dunwich 2006

Bonnie’s Return
Hounds and Hauntings

by Angelina Proctor

About eight years ago when my husband (who is in the Navy) and I were living in Jacksonville, Florida, I called an ad in the paper for a free dalmatian. They told me to come on out and see the dog, whose name was Bonnie. When I arrived at the house, the man could not find her. After about ten minutes he realized she was under the house but would not come out when he called her.

I had been asking questions about her all the while and found out she’d had no veterinary care, no real diet for a dog (he mentioned she was given bologna the other day because they had no dog food), and that they really never wanted her in the first place. Finally, he went inside for a hot dog to try to lure her out. As soon as he left the yard, the dog shot out from under the house and leapt into my convertible, looking straight at me as if to say, “Hurry! Let’s go before he comes back!”

Bonnie acted like she had always been a part of our family. Our shepherd, Charlie, took to her right away. At night both dogs slept on the floor at my side of the bed.

I took her to the vet right away and learned she had an advanced case of heartworms. We started treatment immediately. She seemed to be doing better until one day I mistakenly gave her the wrong pill. Bonnie became very ill and had to spend a week at the vet. She only did better when I went to visit her, so the vet decided that she was better off at home, and told me that her loneliness while there was overwhelming.

Before long, Bonnie could no longer walk. She passed away in her sleep. I was distraught and blamed myself for her death. Friends tried to comfort me, telling me she had found love at last and died in peace. My husband buried her in our backyard.

Not long afterward, we were lying in bed one night when we heard a dog’s toenails on the wood floor in the hallway. And then our bedroom door, which was slightly ajar, was bumped open. I reached down and felt Charlie on the floor, sleeping soundly. My husband asked me if I had heard the toenails on the floor, too, and I said that I had and told him it was not Charlie.

I believe Bonnie was letting me know that everything was okay and I didn’t need to blame myself. She loved me as I had loved her.