
Mum, Dad, my brother Michael: everyone in the family got more affection from our ridgeback-staffie cross. And guess whose bed she used to poo on…
I think the tone was set when Ella threw up over me on the way back from the Dogs Trust. She was three months old, rolling around on the back seat between me and my twin brother, Michael (we’d just turned seven), and wasn’t enjoying her first trip in a car. She could have been sick anywhere – over the seat, over the floor – but for some reason she decided to climb on to me first.
It was the start of a beautiful but strangely one-sided friendship. Ella, a ridgeback-staffie cross, was the perfect dog: playful, energetic, naughty and tolerant. She would let us poke and prod her without complaint, turn her ears inside-out or dress her up in T-shirts or the thick woollen poncho my Greek Cypriot grandma knitted her for the British winter. And she was endlessly loving, at least to the other members of the family. Me? Too often it was as if I didn’t exist. If Michael and I were sitting on the sofa, she’d bound up to him. If I came home after a day out with my dad, he was the one she’d jump at. If I tried to take her for a walk by myself, she’d drag her feet and insist that I fetch my brother.
To add insult to injury, about once a year she would do a poo in the house. Not just anywhere, though: she’d climb the stairs to my room and leave it in a neat pile on top of my bed.

I can’t pretend I wasn’t offended by Ella’s attitude – I loved her just as much as anyone. But it took me a while to realise that in her eyes we were both bitches fighting for our place in the pack. I read that dogs are 98.8% wolf, even yappy little chihuahuas. Ella was a definite she-wolf and my mother (she who opened the tin of dog food every night) was the undisputed alpha female. Ella could handle that fact, but she didn’t want to be the omega female. That was me.
Working out the reasons for Ella’s lack of sisterhood, understanding that her indifference was atavistic and not just casual, didn’t make me any less jealous of my brother, who always took great pleasure in the fact that Ella seemed to prefer him. But I resigned myself to the situation. And then one day (happy ending, anyone?) everything changed. I must have been 16 or 17, we’d been away for a fortnight in France, and when we got back it was me she ran up to first, whining and twisting with pleasure at seeing me again. After that it was like all those years of competition had never happened. We were best friends for ever, or at least for the couple of years she had left. Ella finally loved me.
Can pets see ghosts?

Spooky season is in full swing, meaning there may be some heightened paranormal activity afoot. In fact, a survey conducted by YouGov revealed that two in five Americans believe ghosts are real, while one in five people say they’ve actually encountered one.
The existence of ghosts may be up for debate, but one of the most persistent beliefs is that our animals can sense spirits or paranormal activity. We’ve all witnessed the scene in scary movies or TV shows, when the tiny dog barks at the door but no one is there. Sure, the movie may be fake, but many pet owners have noticed their dog or cat do the same in real life.
Of course, there’s only one thought that enters a pet owner’s mind when this occurs – that their animal is obviously interacting with a ghost. To set the record straight, we spoke with two animal communicators – aka, pet psychics – to learn whether our animals are really channeling the other side.
Why do we believe our pets can see ghosts in the first place? According to Phoebe Hoffman, an animal communicator and intuitive guide based in New York City, it has a lot to do with their heightened senses.
“Pets are living off of energy, whether it’s our energy or energy that we are not privy to, because we’re so limited in our senses compared to them,” Hoffman tells us. “Now, can I say that what they’re seeing is ghosts? I don’t know that because I’ve never seen a ghost. I’m not seeing what they’re seeing, but I’ve had many experiences with my own animals – which happen to be cats – where they are having an absolute moment with something that’s there that only they can witness.”

It goes without saying that animals have senses that are unknown to humans. When it comes to our beloved canines, dogs have the ability to hear much higher-pitched noises than their owners. The average adult human can’t hear sounds above 20,000 Hertz (Hz), while dogs can hear sounds as high as 47,000 to 65,000 Hz, per the American Kennel Club.
Meanwhile, cats are known to have great eyesight, especially in the dark. According to Texas A&M University, felines can dilate their pupils in low-light settings and they have a special reflective layer called the tapetum lucidum, which can reflect more light to the back of the eye.
“Non-human animals sense things in different ways than humans do. Cats, for instance, the way they see things is different from the way humans see things. Their eyesight is different, they can definitely perceive energies that we can’t or things that aren’t visible to the human eye,” Olivia LaBarre, an animal communicator and Reiki specialist based in NYC, tells us. “Most of the animals I communicate with have increased senses beyond the five senses.”

But what about those undeniable moments when our dog or cat appears to be reacting – or interacting – with something we can’t see? When they begin to bark or meow at nothing visible, stand in the corner, play with an object that belonged to a deceased family member, or assume behaviours that are characteristic of a former pet? For LaBarre – who’s been an animal communicator and grief worker for five years – her clients have noticed that, after one of their pets dies, their living animal will even start taking on some of the behaviours of the animal who passed.
When these moments occur, it’s important to look out for certain signs or signals that your dog or cat’s behaviour has suddenly shifted. This can look like playing with something that isn’t there, tilting their head, arching their back, or wagging their tail.
As for what pet owners should do when they believe their beloved animal is interacting with a ghost, experts agree to just sit back and let it happen. “Allow it, observe it, and just pay attention because it might be about you. Humans are very unaware of the mysteries of the universe. Animals, they’re tapped in. They are aware that energy doesn’t die,” says Hoffman. “Just let it happen. It’s not a bad thing.”
However, there could be the slight off chance that a poltergeist from the next Paranormal Activity instalment just so happens to be living in your kitchen. Then, of course, it’s time to call in the experts… or an exorcist.
Our pets’ heightened senses – and sometimes their silly, quirky, and erratic behaviour – has played into the belief that dogs and cats can see ghosts. Still, there’s much uncertainty about whether this long-standing superstition is actually true.
“We are so limited in our ability to see what the naked eye cannot see. Animals have this window into watching spirits and energy,” says Hoffman. “But as far as a ghost? That I don’t know, but I know they’re seeing something.”
Although it continues to be a mystery whether our pets’ senses are able to pick up on energies or spirits, pay close attention to your dog or cat this spooky season. Who knows what life forms will be lurking this Halloween?
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