Dogs seen before a Death

Mrs. Crowe, in her Night Side of Nature, mentions the case of a young lady named P——­, who saw a big black dog twice suddenly appear and disappear by her side, immediately before the death of her mother.

In The Unseen World a story is also told of the phantasm of a big black dog appearing on the bed of a Cornish child, doomed to die shortly afterwards, the same dog invariably manifesting itself before the death of any member of the child’s family.

There are so many cases of a similar kind—­one hears of them nearly everywhere one goes—­that one is led to believe some of them, at least, must be true.  There is no more reason to believe all ghost-story tellers are liars, than there is to believe all parsons are liars—­and this being so, additional proof is afforded of the continuation of the dog’s life after death; for these family canine ghosts are more than probably the phantasms of dogs that once belonged to families—­maybe centuries ago—­and met their fate in some cruel and unnatural manner.

A Dog scared by a Canine Ghost

A friend of mine, Edward Morgan, had a terrier that was found one morning, poisoned in a big stone kennel.  Soon afterwards this friend came to me and said, “I have got a new dog—­a spaniel—­but nothing will induce it to enter the kennel in which poor Zack was poisoned.  Come and see!”

I did so, and what he said was true.  Mack (Morgan gave all his dogs names that rhymed—­Zack, Mack, Jack, Tack, and even Whack and Smack), when carried to the entrance of the kennel, resolutely refused to cross the threshold, barking, whining, and exhibiting unmistakable symptoms of fear.  I knelt down, and peering into the kennel saw two luminous eyes and the distinct outlines of a dog’s head.

“Morgan!” I exclaimed, “the mystery is easily solved; there’s a dog in here.”

“Nonsense!” Morgan cried, speaking very excitedly.

“But there is,” I retorted, “see for yourself.”

Morgan immediately bent down and poked his head into the kennel.

“What rot,” he said.  “You’re having me on, there’s nothing here.”

“What!” I cried, “do you mean to say you can see no dog?”

“No!” he replied, “there is none!”

“Let me look again!” I said, and kneeling down, I peeped in.

“Do you mean to say you can’t see a dog’s face and eyes looking straight at us?” I asked.

“No,” he answered, “I can see nothing.”  And to prove to me the truth of what he said, he fetched a pole and raked about the kennel vigorously with it.  We both, then, tried to make Mack enter, and Morgan at last caught hold of him and placed him forcibly inside.  Mack’s terror knew no limit.  He gave one loud howl, and flying out of the kennel with his ears hanging back, tore past into the front garden, where we left him in peace.  Morgan was still sceptical as to there being anything wrong with the kennel, but two days later wrote to me as follows:—­