 I've heard for many years now that some animals have a sixth sense that can sense danger, natural disasters, and or changes in weather, among many other things, like geese flying south for the winter, like cows laying down when it's about to rain, and that dogs can see spirits, you know, ghosts. I can somewhat believe the first two, because after all, I've actually seen them. I never believed the seeing ghost things about dogs. I never believed in ghosts, spirits, or anything paranormal, until recently. About a week ago, my wife, Barbara and I, my name's Tom, by the way, we had planned a nice relaxing day at the beach, given the fact that we just so happened to be off on the same day. It's something that rarely ever happens. Well, my wife is a teller at the bank in town, and I am the night manager at Wally World, a department store in town as well. Anyway, we finally had a day off together. My wife had packed a picnic lunch, sandwiches, chips, little pieces of fruit, and a cooler full of sodas and water, as well as two travel mugs of coffee, one for her and one for me. We were ready for Shower Beach. That's not the real name of it, though, but it does rhyme with the real name. We just call it that to amuse ourselves and because it has a full shower facility on site. Anyway, we also have a dog, Gremlin. Gremlin is a two-year-old Chihuahua terrier mix, brown and white, about 15 pounds, and an absolute mama's boy. He follows my wife everywhere. The kitchen when she's cooking dinner, the bathroom when she showers. He even has his own chair at the dinner table next to her, of course. He's not spoiled. No, not at all. Well, he decided that he was going to come with us. It was about 8.30 in the morning. I grabbed the cooler and basket, headed for the door and my wife grabbed her purse, the travel mugs, a blanket, then held the door open for us. Apparently, Gremlin saw the purse and the open door. He knew exactly what that meant. He's a very smart dog. I guess he decided he was going to go buy buys, too. He ran out the door, almost tripping me, and sat by the passenger side door of the truck. You guessed it, my wife's door. I loaded the stuff in the back of the blazer as my wife opened her door. Yes, Grimmy, you can come, too, she said, smiling. Gremlin got in, wagging his tail. My wife got in herself, and I did the same. All three of us then made the 45-minute drive to shower beach. Gremlin sat on my wife's lap, of course, and went to sleep. My wife and I talked, laughed, listened to music, not my kind of music, no, her kind of music, Michael Bolton music. When we got to the beach, I had the overwhelming urge to listen to Slayer Metallica, or even Ozzy, just to get my manhood back. Anyway, we got to the beach, unloaded the truck, went down to the sand, and enjoyed the next four hours, spending time together, running around, playing with a dog, getting our feet wet in the water, eating lunch, then relaxing on the blanket. Gremlin as well. I was lying there. With my eyes closed, my wife was doing the same. As Gremlin sat there, checking out the girl dogs, I assume. Now, I'm sure many, if not all of you, have been to the beach at some point in your life, and you've laid down and closed your eyes. You can still feel the heat from the sun beating down on you, right? Well, as I lied there, sun beating down on me, it suddenly faded into a brisk blanket of cold air. I opened my eyes to see the sky quickly turning gray, and a large pack of intensely black clouds off in the distance. I tapped my wife on the shoulder to get her attention and said, Yeah, there's a bad storm coming, babe. We gotta get out of here. She looked up at the sky and quickly agreed. We grabbed all our belongings and ran to the truck, as well as many other people on the beach, Gremlin right beside us. We threw the stuff in the back of the truck and quickly hopped in. Gremlin jumped in the back seat and laid down, which was odd. Anyway, I started her up and began driving out of the parking lot. A fog then rolled in completely out of nowhere. And I'm not talking a little bit of fog. No, I'm talking barely see an inch in front of your car fog. There was no fog when we went down on the sand. Where did this crap come from? I thought to myself. The best way I can describe it is that it looked like a scene from that Stephen King movie. The mist. Only worse. Anyway, I drove like a snail creeping down the road, barely able to see where I was going. You could see lightning bolts flashing within the fog and hear thunder booming in the distance. It never rained, though, which was odd. Gremlin began to whine just a little bit. It's okay, boy. My wife said to him, then turned around, reached between the seats and rubbed his head. Want to come sit with mom? She asked him. Gremlin didn't move, which was odd. Okay, my wife said, then turned back around. About 20 minutes into driving in the fog, it just disappeared. Just like that. The fog was gone and the day was bright and sunny again. I couldn't even see it in my rear view mirror. The image shown in the mirror was that of a bright sunny day like the fog or the storm never existed. Where'd the fog go? My wife asked. I don't know, but that kind of crept me out, I answered. Gremlin then barked from the back seat. I guess it creeped him out, too. We drove for about 10 more minutes, passing familiar buildings, gas stations, and other businesses. Now, brace yourself. This is where it gets weird. You see, my wife and I have made this trip to and from shower beach many, many times before, so we knew the layout of the road pretty good. I mean, where all the stoplights were, places to eat, gas stations, and landmarks. But we did not remember what came next. As I was driving along, talking to my wife, not really paying attention to the road, we suddenly came upon a stoplight that was never there before, at the beginning of what should have been an old dirt field, but was now an old rundown cemetery. I slammed on the brakes to avoid running the red light. Gremlin slid off the back seat, hit the floor, stood up, shook it off, jumped back up on the seat, and barked, as if he was calling me a dumbass. Where did that cemetery come from, Tom? My wife asked, slightly confused. I don't know. I replied, maybe we just missed it on the way down. But ain't it awesome? Yeah, maybe. But it is awesome. Let's stop. She replied. Now, you have to understand, my wife and I are both history buffs. We love history. You can call us sick if you want to, but sometimes we like to just walk around old cemeteries and look at the dates on the headstones, just for fun. And this cemetery was old. You could tell, because it was completely surrounded by an old black iron fence about 10 feet high. And all the headstones were made of stone, not granite or bronze like they are nowadays. Anyway, I put on my right turn signal and got in the turn lane. As soon as I did, Grimlin put his paws on the armrest on the back passenger side door, stared out the window, and whined, loud. I then drove about 30 yards to the entrance of the cemetery. Grimlin began whining more intensely. What's the matter, boy? I asked, stopping the car at the entrance. He turned his head quickly, and I swear he looked me dead straight in the eyes, growled then barked, as if he was trying to tell me something. In retrospect, I should have listened. The entrance had two large square gray pillars on either side of the road, with huge gray gargoyles on top. A black iron half moon sign stretched across the top of the pillars, connecting the two feet together with the words Robert Bell's Memorial Cemetery written on it. Since the cemetery's entrance was located directly on the road, there was nowhere to park the truck I had to pull in. As soon as I pulled in, Grimlin began to bark repeatedly, running back and forth on the back seat, hitting the doors as he did. Grimmy, stop. My wife yelled, and she never yells at him. He didn't stop. He just kept running and barking. He'll be fine, I said, and got out of the truck. My wife did the same. Now the air should have been hot, given it was bright and sunny outside. But it was not. The air inside the cemetery was cold. I'm talking goosebumps cold. We walked to the back of the truck, opened the hatch, and each grabbed a fleece throw-on that we keep in the back, just in case. We put on our fleeces, and I shut the hatch. We closed the truck doors, leaving the windows down about two inches, so Grimlin could get some air, and began walking through the cemetery, looking at the headstones. I got 1735. My wife said, Cool, here's one that says 1437. I said, Can you believe that? Take a picture of me in that stone, please, babe. I've never seen one this far back before. She then pulled out her phone and took the picture. I'll check it out later. Let's keep going. We could hear Grimlin growling and barking in the distance, going completely insane. It wasn't a, yeah, mommy's home happy bark. It was a, if I catch you, I'm gonna kill you, bark. We walked a few more feet. When my wife turned to me and said, I'm worried about Grim, look at him. He's never acted like this before. Her eyes began to tear up. Now, you have to understand, Grimlin is a very laid back kind of dog, and for him to be acting this way was not normal at all. Yeah, I said, something spook in him. Poor guy. Let's go. We'll come back another time. My wife agreed, and we quickly made our way back to the truck. We got in, took our fleeces off and began to drive home. Grimlin stopped barking as much, laid down on the passenger side of the back seat and growled quietly as he stared at the other side of the seat and barked on occasion. He totally ignored my wife when she tried to talk to him. That was really, really odd. When we got home and got out of the truck, Grimlin refused to get out, so much so that I had to physically scoop him up and carry him in the house. I put him down once we got inside, and he just stood there, looking at the front door intensely. It was about 530 at this point. My wife and I decided to have TV dinners for dinner and to watch a couple movies on Netflix. My wife prepared the food while I set up the TV trays. Grimlin was still staring at the door. About halfway through the first movie, Grimlin again began to bark angrily at the door, then took off like a bat out of hell towards the kitchen. My wife and I just looked at each other. We quickly got up, ran to the kitchen, and we heard Grimlin yelp several times and heard the sound of dishes and glassware breaking. I turned on the light as we both walked in to see Grimlin laying down in the doorway, eyes wide, staring up at the ceiling, showing teeth, but not growling. Every single cabinet door and drawer were wide open, and multiple pieces of plates, saucers, and glasses lie broken on the kitchen floor. What the hell? I said. I don't know. My wife replied, then shook her head. I've had enough for today. I'm tired. I'm going to go lay down, hun. She said, okay, babe, I'll be up in a minute. I'm going to clean this up real quick. I said, Grimlin then got up and walked with my wife, looking back to the kitchen on occasion. I swept up all the broken pieces, put them in the trash, shut the cabinet doors and the drawers, then shut off the light. As the light went off, I saw what looked like an old woman standing by the back door. I just shrugged it off as bad lighting, then went upstairs to lay down. I walked in our bedroom, and Grimlin was laying at the foot of the bed, staring at the door, instead of snuggling with my wife, like he always does. What's going on with him, I thought, and laid down too. The next morning, the alarm on my phone woke me up at 5am, like it always does. My wife didn't have to be at work until 9, so I just wanted to let her sleep. Grimlin, as well. It did not happen that way. I stumbled down the stairs when I got about three or four steps from the bottom, and I heard a voice, or what sounded like a voice, in my right ear, saying something I couldn't understand. What? I thought, then quickly dismissed it as people outside. I turned the corner to see my dining room table turned upside down, with the six chairs positioned like a pyramid on top of it. Strange writings, and even stranger symbols carved into the wall. The chandelier was ripped down, wires hanging from the ceiling, and thrown into the back of the couch, ripping it to shreds. Barbara, I yelled, as loud as I could, then felt incredibly cold. Just for a few seconds, then back to normal. My wife came staggering down the stairs in a hurry, Grimlin in tow. What the? She said, it's gotta be the wind, or a truck going by. Something, there's gotta be an explanation for this. I said, completely frazzled. I moved the chairs, turned the table right side up, then put the chairs back in place. I then grabbed the chandelier, took it out back, and tossed it into the trash. I came back inside, walked into the kitchen, turned the coffee pot on, then sat at the bottom of the stairs, trying to rationalize what was going on. My wife joined me, after letting Grimlin out to use the bathroom, and then back in. He made a beeline for his food and water bowls, ate some food, drank some water, then sat at my wife's feet. When the coffee pot beat, I made us each a cup, and we sat on the stairs talking, drinking coffee until it was time for Barbara to get ready for work. She got up and said, I'll be right back, babe, I'm gonna get dressed. I nodded my head as I took a drink of my coffee. She then turned and began walking up the stairs. I watched her. Anyway, Grimlin followed close behind. She reached the top of the stairs, turned right, and disappeared out of sight. Suddenly, my wife screamed, a blood-curdling, terrified scream as Grimlin began barking viciously and growling once again, Tom. I heard my wife scream as I heard the sound of a door being slammed shut. I ran up the stairs as fast as I could, turned to see Grimlin barking, growling, and clawing at our bedroom door, trying to get in. My wife screamed again as the sound of wood breaking could be heard, then a loud thud on the floor. Tom! My wife screamed again, more fearful this time. I tried the doorknob, but it was locked or stuck or something. I then began slamming my shoulder into the door, screaming, Barbara, Barbara. Grimlin was going completely insane, Tom! My wife screamed again, help me! Another loud thud. After the third or fourth try, I finally managed to break the door down. I rushed in, to a huge gust of wind blowing in my bedroom, like a whirlpool, several pieces of paper, chunks of wood, small knickknacks, and various other items were caught in the whirlpool and spinning in the air. I had to shield myself from getting hit. Grimlin tried running to the bed, but was caught in the wind and slammed hard into the chair. I looked to my left to see Barbara pinned back first against the wall. Her arms spread out, her head back gasping for air, and about three inches off the ground, like someone or something, was holding her up. Barbara! I screamed and began to fight the wind to get to my wife. Suddenly, an ear-piercing screech was heard, which morphed into words. She's mine. The voice said, as this incredibly grotesque, for lack of a better term, person began to appear in front of my wife as the wind died down, the items falling to the floor. I was frozen for a second. This person was dressed in an old white robe that was tattered and frayed at the edges. Its entire body was void of any flesh, only the decaying skeletal frame. Its nose and eyes were just black holes that had what appeared to be worms crawling out of them. Its mouth had about five broken decaying teeth in it. This person's right arm was holding my wife off the ground. Oh, and it was completely transparent. Get out. It screamed demonically. Someone then barked so viciously that it actually scared me. Before I could even move, Grimlin jumped from the chair to the bed, then leaped at this person. It then shrieked and completely disappeared. Grimlin landing on all fours on the floor, my wife fell into the fetal position trying to catch her breath. Grimlin quickly running over to her and licking her face. I ran over as well, making sure she was all right, and I picked her up with a fireman's carry. Grimmy, let's go. I said loudly as I ran out of the bedroom and down the stairs, my wife in my arms. Grimlin right behind me. When I got to the bottom of the stairs and turned the corner, Grimlin then passed me, stopped at the front door, and began barking again. What is it Grim? He barked a few more times and stepped toward the door. I thought it was that old dead bitch again. Please department, open up. I heard a deep voice say. Grimlin then sat down. I walked to the door, opened it, still holding my wife. We gotta get out of here, I said, and pushed past the officer as I laid my wife down on the grass, Grimlin now sitting by her side. We got reports of domestic violence happening at this residence, now back away from the woman, the officer said sternly. I looked at my wife. She nodded her head and I backed away. Grimlin stayed put. I spent the next 45 minutes explaining to the cops what had happened as the EMTs tended to my wife and found out she was okay. Just a little shaken up. Grimlin still by her side. The cops then spoke to her. She confirmed my story. They didn't believe us and actually told me that they believed my wife is covering for me because she's afraid. I would never put angry hands on my wife ever anyway after the cops and EMTs left. My wife and I, as well as Grimlin, agreed that we were not going to stay here anymore. We got in the truck backed out of the driveway and left it all behind. Free house if anyone wants it, ghost included. I called the landlord and told him we were leaving. He wished me good luck and hung up the phone. I didn't tell him about the ghost or the damage. My wife and I both called our jobs and told them we were involved in a traumatic event and needed a few days off. They both agreed. We rented a room at the local hotel for a week or so, so we could find another place. And Grimlin is back to being a mama's boy. We never did find out why the ghost wanted my wife. Yesterday, my wife, myself, and Grimlin made the trip downstate to see if that cemetery was still there. This time, no Michael Bolton. It was Motley Crue all the way down and back home. The cemetery wasn't there, just a dirt field like it was before. I don't know what that place was and I don't want to know. Oh, by the way, last night I finally checked out that picture my wife took at the cemetery and if you look real close, you can barely make out the face and the body of that person standing behind the headstone. She deleted that picture immediately and we're never going date hunting at a cemetery ever again. Now, if I learned anything from this experience, it's that ghosts are real and dogs can see them, even if the human eye can't. So the next time your dog is barking at nothing, ask yourself this question, is it really nothing or is it something you just can't see?