Have you ever had a pet react to something that wasn’t there, or at least that you could not sense? This sort of thing is not unusual. Dogs have been known to intensely look at what you see as nothing. They may growl, bark, or even wag their tail as if their worst enemy or best friend is standing in front of them. But you don’t see anything. Are these animals just pretending to see something in order to get a treat so they will be quiet? Or is it something more? Are they seeing a spirit?

***

I posed that question at one of our Ghost Hunter meetings.

“Since we have been using the same tools for years and have not yet found absolute evidence of ghosts or even found a good method for detecting them, why don’t we try some different methods?”

​

The group looked at me like I was in a church and had just declared that I had evidence that there was no God.

I did not allow them to have their moment of disbelief and then carry on as if I didn’t exist (as if I were a ghost).

I continued, “Look at what we use to detect the presence of a spirit: an EMF meter, thermal scanners, or sometimes motion sensors. It assumes that a ghost will emit some sort of electromagnetic field, produce a thermal signature, or trigger a motion sensor. That has never been verified. Live humans don’t set off an EMF meter, what is the theory that a ghost would?” Again, I get that stare, but I forge bravely onward. “Thermal scanners have a little more credibility since there is a lot of empirical evidence of cold spots related to hauntings. But even that has no real evidence.”

​

“So, what do you propose?” the leader of the group finally gave in and asked.

​

I was paralyzed for a second. I DID exist in their universe! I was not invisible! I was not a ghost. Finally, I regained my composure. “I propose we use a dog to detect spirits.” Lacking any but those ‘God does not exist’ stares, I continued, “A dog has a much greater hearing range than a human. We use an audio recorder. Somebody tries to suppress a fart, and we spend ten hours analyzing it, debating whether a ghost said ‘get oooout’ or ‘I have gooooout’.

​

Jim, a fellow ghost hunter, objected, “I told everyone my stomach was upset!”

​

“I wasn’t pointing fingers, Jim,” I said, “but you did wait an hour before confessing. Anyway, besides better hearing, dogs have a much greater sense of smell. Sometimes scents are associated with ghosts, such as a perfume or flowers.”

I couldn’t help myself, “or sometimes gas.” Jim glowered at me.

“Probably the most important thing,” I continued, “dogs don’t have pre-conceived ideas of what they are sensing. They are not influenced by apophenia.”

​

“I had a dog that had that once,” Jim pondered. “The vet said cocker spaniels were prone to that condition.”

 

“Apophenia,” I said, trying not to sound like I was lecturing, “is the experience of seeing patterns or meaning where none actually exists.”

​

“My uncle had that,” one of the others in the group interjected, “he used to talk to people who weren’t there. Sometimes he would get into heated arguments. We finally had to have him put in long-term care when he started throwing rocks at invisible people and breaking the neighbors' windows.”

 

“Schizophrenia is an extreme version of apophenia, but most people are not on that extreme spectrum.” I was glad that it seemed like I was in a conversation with this group, so I continued. “Conspiracy theories are a good example: believing unrelated events, like natural disasters or political decisions, are part of a hidden, coordinated plot, when they are based on coincidental timings or minor details. Like the conspiracy theory that the government is using drones that look like birds in order to spy on Americans.”

 

“Although you must admit,” Jim interjected, “you see a lot of them sitting on power lines. I have heard that it is to recharge their batteries.”

​

At that moment, I sort of wished Jim would go sit on a power line.

 

There was that familiar dead silence again. This time, I thought maybe they were considering what I said or at least thinking of the conspiracy theories they believed. Then, much to my dismay, the leader said, “Next week we will meet at the old Whitmore School at nine o’clock. If you don’t know how to get there, I can give you a map.”

​

I had grabbed some attention, and was not willing to give it up easily, “So will it be alright if I bring my Aussie... to detect ghosts?”

​

“Is she housebroken?” the leader asked.

​

There was such a temptation to say, “Jim isn’t housebroken, and you let him come.” But I did not. I merely answered “of course.”