I have two pet stories, they’re pet ghost stories. Little encounters we’ve had with our pets. The first story is about my little family and our awesome dog Ziggy. And the second is my dads story about his first best friend he named Harry. Hope you enjoy!

ZIG

In February of 2020 we put our beloved Ziggy, a yorkie of 14 (almost 15) years down. We buried him on our family property in Mt Carmel, Utah. Almost exactly a year later my family had neat/strange encounters with our Zig.

My daughter and I were in my bed finishing up a show and getting ready to call it a night (I let her sleep with me when my husband is away at work). Anyway, we just turned off the TV, and lights, and in the silence I hear what sounds like my dog Finn walking around, but I know he’s downstairs with my son Zac. I’m focusing now on the paw walk, when I realize it’s Zig walking around my living room, coming towards my bedroom. My daughter hears it too and we both sat up and just looked at each other, wondering if we were really hearing what we think we hear. And then, he scratched my door. Something only Ziggy did. My other dog Finn, will whine or bark to come in for a snuggle before bed, but he never scratches. I just sat there for a second and then said “Zig?” and he scratched again.
I hopped out of bed to open the door. My daughter was a little more on the scared side and said “Don’t open it mom, It can’t be Zig!” A little nervous once I got to the door, I hesitated, but only for a second and then swung it open, not knowing what I’d see. There was nothing…obviously. But I know Zig. That was him walking around, and that was him scratching. So just in case he was still close by, I said “We love and miss you Zig.”
Just to be on the safe side, I went downstairs and checked on Zac and Finn. And sure enough, Finn was snuggled up on Zac’s bed sound asleep. Zac asked what I was doing, and I told him what had just happened. He said “That’s weird, I heard him walking around down here too, and Finn jumped up off the bed and went to the door whining to be let out. I just ignored it though, thinking there’s no way it’s Zig.”
The next day I called my oldest son Damon, and told him what had happened. He went silent for a minute and then told me he woke up in the middle of the night, to the sound of Zig walking around his room, then felt him jump on his bed, and nuzzle into the crook of his knees, where he had always slept for 14 years. “I could feel the weight and the heat of him next to me.” He said. I asked if he was scared or said anything, and He said he wasn’t scared, more sad. He knew it was Ziggy, and that this visit wouldn’t last long. So he said almost exactly what I had said to him. “I love you Zig, and miss you everyday.” and then poof. The weight lifted immediately after saying that, and he knew he was gone.

So there’s our pet story. The ghost of my family dog coming to say hi to us all, on his death-iversary

Harry

My dad, Joe was lucky enough to be born and raised in L.A. during her prime, from the 1940’s – 1960’s. When he was around 8 years old, he had saved enough money to buy himself a yellow and green parakeet, and named him Harry.
My dad loved this bird. Took him everywhere with him. Even school. He’d just put him in his desk with some feed, and close the top lid and let him hang out in there till recess, and then back again till it was time to go home. Harry would sit in my dad’s front pocket shirt, or on the back of my dads neck on bike rides. My dad even became “known” around town as “the boy with the bird”
After a few months, my grandparents let him buy another bird, a friend for Harry they said. This time he bought a blue and pink girl parakeet, and named her Candy. Harry and Candy were inseparable, and my dad spent every extra minute that he could playing and training these birds. Turns out my dad had quite the talent. My grandparents were so impressed with my dad that they bought, and built him a huge
aviary, and gave him a few pigeons to go with it.
My dad trained the pigeons quickly. He trained them to fly to and from the beach in no time. My dads next trick was to train the pigeons to guide Harry and Candy on their flights. Within a few weeks, Harry and Candy could fly around with the pigeons, and the pigeons always made sure to be home before dark. Always. But one day they didn’t come home, and he never found them.

Fast forward to this last November, when my dad was on his deathbed. As the end came nearer we asked if he could see anyone. He said no, but he could feel them around. He could feel the excitement they had for him to come home. Said it reminded him of a birth, but opposite. Everyone huddled around the labor room excited for the new baby to arrive. He could feel his parents, grandparents, uncles and friends, anticipation for Joe. Joe was coming home any minute he teased.

A few days later my sister asked again, “can you see or hear anyone?” “no” he said again, “well, I can see Harry.” We kind of giggled and said “really?” My dad just said, yeah, I’ve been seeing him fly around here the last day or two.
After my dad passed my sister was going through his old journals. She said page after page, after page my dad wrote about his birds and the fun adventures they had. But one entry had her in tears. Here’s his entry from 1978.

“The last time I saw Harry and Candy they were flying around my neighbors house. When I went out to get them I couldn’t find them. I searched and searched and searched. I don’t know if they eloped together or if a cat got to them. I know I loved them both, and though I’ve had many birds since then, they’ve always just been pets. It’s comforting to know that all things that live, will always live. And, if by chance I’m found worthy to get to heaven, after I’ve been reunited with my wife and children, friends and relatives, I’m going after my two friends, Harry and Candy.”

We all cried when my sister sent us that entry. How sweet, and comforting it was to know he didn’t have to worry about finding his two long lost friends. Harry (and maybe Candy?) arrived first, and were part of his entourage in welcoming him home.

My daughter and I love your podcast. My daughter was so excited to be able to write in our stories. Keep up the good work! It’s much appreciated.

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