Ghost Dog

I’m here and I’m there,

I’m really everywhere,

I’m the Ghost Dog,

Traveling all around you,

As a paranormal fog.

 

Few have seen the real  me,

As I died back in ’70,

But sometimes I am revealed,

If I notice you,

And you hold me any appeal.

 

I have traveled the country of my birth,

From Bangor to L.A.,

The reactions I get from those who see me,

Often leave me doubled over with mirth.

 

I spend my nights,

At fancy five-star resorts,

I like staying in suites,

Numbered one-thirteen,

But I’ll use two-thirteen,

As a last resort.

 

I stay for free,

‘Cuz when I float through the door,

They can’t see me,

Sneaking across their lobby floor.

 

I like to take a bubble bath,

In the relaxing Jacuzzi hot tub,

Then prowl the kitchen for dinner,

Quietly though,

So as not to cause a hubbub.

 

I’ll then float down the halls,

And out the exit,

I’m headed to the Tiki,

To snag me some fireball.

 

Daytime is even better,

It’s so interesting,

I go to dog parks,

And make friends who wear sweaters.

 

The doggies can see me,

But their owners cannot,

While we jump and growl in play,

All they see,

Is one pup on a leash,

Who’s for naught acting crazy.

 

This amuses me greatly,

Especially this one little old lady,

She one time shrieked at her fur baby,

“Misty stop it!, or I’ll tell Daddy”!

 

Silly things like this,

Make me pleased to be stuck,

Among those forever dwelling,

In an afterlife,

Spent neither in Heaven or in Hell.

 

It’s not often I materialize,

As an apparition,

But when I do,

Behold,

For I am quite the vision.

 

I am shiny red and pretty,

With bright brown eyes,

From time to time,

I lay at the foot of a bed,

So when someone awakes,

They have a surprise.

 

I suppose I’ll go on,

Decade after decade,

Each day busying myself,

With charming others,

From dusk until dawn.