As most of my readers probably know, my law office is in my home.
Until recently, our security system consisted of two basic components.
First is a very lovable Labrador retriever who barks very loudly at strangers. Second are my frequent discussions with clients about my favorite hobby, target shooting, allowing an occasional glimpse at the .45 I keep in my desk drawer.
Maggy, my 5-year-old Beagle is a fairly timid creature. The epitome of sooner hounds, she would rather snuggle in a heap of blankets and pillows on our bed than do almost any other thing.
Recently, we had a security system installed. Even when deactivated, it will beep and a British voice will announce every time a door or window is opened.
To Maggy's utter dismay, our home has suddenly become haunted. All of a sudden, throughout the day, there are now strange noises and disembodied voices.
Maggy doesn't know what to do. She hides between my feet, under my desk and asks me with her eyes if everything is OK.
Apparently, in her eyes, I am all-powerful. She does the same thing when a thunderstorm approaches. On those occasions, I try to explain to her that she is safe, that Zeus, the thunder god, has bigger things on his mind than a good little Beagle girl. She must have a guilty conscience as she typically continues to shiver and worry despite my assurances.
When it is time for everyone to "go outside," she would previously allow the rambunctious boys go out the door first. Now, with the beep and voice moments after the door opens, she is first out. Sometimes, this also translates into being reluctant to come back inside.
With any luck, Maggy will make peace with the specter that has taken residence in her home and things will go back to normal. In any case, it looks like this Halloween; Maggy will be having a haunted house.