Harold Snored

            Harold snored in his bed, dreaming about his wedding. Lilith looked glorious in her white dress, and her smile literally made Harold beam with joy. When she said "I do," it was the happiest moment of Harold's life.
            Miles and Miss Kitty, exhausted from their vigil, nodded their heads, and together, tip-toed out of the room, leaving the heavy, now unlocked door, open.

            “I think Harold has made a break-through in his recovery,” Miles said. “He relived his death, and perhaps he can now move on to his next passage.”

            “Do you think Harold is going to be ok,” Miss Kitty asked.

            Miles wished he could communicate with Miss Kitty face-to-face. Not many humans could really speak to animals. Miles had done plenty of research on the subject. When he was a wee packrat, his mother read Dr. Doolittle to him, and Miles had believed every word. Of course, he soon learned that it was pure fiction. Fortunately, Miles had attended PRU and learned how to read and write in several languages, including English, Spanish, Latin, and of course, Russian.

            Exhausted, Miles limped across the front room floor, resting momentarily on the stones set around the wood stove. Sighing, Miles stood up, and trudged to his writing desk. Just as he was about to leap onto his desk, Miss Kitty leaned down, picked him up with warm hands, and settled him next to his mini iPad.

            “Thank-you, Miss Kitty,” Miles typed, hitting send with his tail.

            “You are such a dashing packrat, Miles,” Miss Kitty said.

            “Harold is going to be fine,” Miles continued. “He has made a major break through, and he’ll probably sleep for days.”

            “Oh, Miles,” Miss Kitty said. “Who could have done that to him? He’s such a sweet man.”

            Miles typed, “Harold told me he was in AA. Perhaps someone from his past came out of the shadows and murdered him? I was certain Lilith had done the deed, but now, I have my doubts. I sure wish there were AA meetings for ghosts. Harold needs a sponsor, and the opportunity to interact with other people in recovery. Without meetings, he’s left to his own devices, which in my opinion, is why he is so moody and unstable.”

            “Harold was in recovery?” Miss Kitty said. “Oh my. We have open meetings in Sandpoint, but no meetings for ghosts.”