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PIKACHU by Terrie M. Scott, May 14, 2014

I had a Stephen King moment yesterday.

PikachuWe've known for quite some time that something is trying to hurt Tim and I. We've accepted that. As I said in the GAC episode, whatever is there won't be happy till it kills us. For my part, I think I have come to terms with it quite well. Tim struggles with it far more than I ever have. But, then again, my faith is stronger.

We've also known for some time (and, I have written about it in my blogs before) that the activity has continued in my own home. Whether by the “subway” as Zak described it, attaching itself to us or something that is unique to my home.

I live in a 130 year old historic home, beautiful Victorian. It's known its own share of heartbreak. The home owners that built it both died in this home, as did three of their children. I don't need activity where I live. But, it does happen. Things get tossed around, thrown about, moved, displaced, slammed, sobbing, crying, phantom smells and an array of otherworldly spooky things that my son-in-law has been dealing with himself the past several months. He's staying with me for awhile after coming down from NYC. He's been dealing with the haunting at my home. (Sorry, Jay)

I don't let it terrify me. I can't. It's my home. It's where I live. It's where my dogs and I must sleep at night, eat and relax. I did wonder if something in the house hurt my Capone, because something in the house had hurt my Jack Russell Terrier - Baby Girl - before. But, I don't like to think like that and quickly dismiss it... after all I DO have to live here.

And, what a glorious house it is. Where the rectory is beautiful but was still a house of God, my home was one of the jewels of the community in its heyday, circa late 1800's. Filled with pocket doors, hand sewn floors, several fireplaces, stained glass and even a working dumb waiter. In need of repair yes, but still in excellent condition given its age.

It's a labyrinth of room after room with 12 foot ceilings throughout, spread out over 6000 square feet on four levels. My dogs and I live in the back. My bedroom leads into the kitchen if I go to the right. If I go to the left there is a second staircase that leads upstairs to other bedrooms, bathrooms and the attic. If I go through the kitchen there is an alleyway that leads to the basement. The alleyway is about 20 feet long.

I rescue dogs, some get along. Some don't. But they all live with me. Sleep in my bed. During the day, I have doggie gates set up for those that don't play well with others. The nice metal ones with doors us humans can just open and walk through. I call it “pen station.” So, if I go to the right there is a gate. Through the gate there is actually a metal security door that separates the back half of the house from the front, located in the alleyway (as I call it) and there is a wood door at top of the basement stairs.

Sam stays down there. My guard dog, (aka horse/brindle pittie boxer mix). I wrote about him before. He's the one that was cowering down at the rectory whenPikachu we first acquired the building. Before we knew better. He's a huge powerful dog. A sweetheart, but still a force to be reckoned with. I know no one is going to harm me while he is here.

This is all leading to something, bare with me.

Pikachu is a tiny (and I do mean TINY) Cairn Terrier (like Toto) that we rescued about a month ago. He's been really sick, pneumonia. We're doing everything we can to get him better, but he's having a tough time of it. He sleeps right on the pillow next to my head or curled up beside me. He's not much bigger than a rabbit.

Aside from being in my bedroom or out in the front foyer to play, Pikachu has not been anywhere else in my house yet. He's just been too sick to explore yet and with pneumonia we are supposed to restrict his activity. So after a month, he is not familiar with my home at all.

Something you should know... And, something other “things” know that can be used against me... I have a habit of putting aside my own personal safety to rescue an animal. I will jump out of a car and start chasing a dog through traffic or down alleys at night to save them. Tim and my family both have commented more than once that when it comes to rescuing animals it's the one area of my life where I know no fear. Many times I have chased strays throughout even the worst neighborhoods with no regard to my safety. It's just what I do. I don't stop and think, I just spring into action. I don't even hesitate.

Hindsight is 20/20 and Tim came to the same conclusion that I did when I discussed the following with him.

As I said, it was a Stephen King moment.

This happened yesterday. All was quiet, all the doggies were sleeping peacefully. If a mouse moves, they all wake up, ears perked and bark in unison. They were sleeping undisturbed. I was still in bed, texting my daughter in NYC. I heard a deep growl from the kitchen. I'm sure it was a growl. But, all the dogs were in the bedroom with me, sleeping. They didn't seem to hear anything at all.

Except Pikachu... Pikachu jumped up and flew off the bed. He was beside me one minute and on the ground the next. He ran into the kitchen. I jumped out of bed, calling after him to stop and ran after him. He was fast, like a rabbit.

He squeezed through the doggie gate. Where the heck was he going? He'd never even been in this part of the house before. He ran straight into the alleyway, I mean running, with a purpose. He squeezed through a hole under the security door. Meanwhile I kept calling and fumbled with the latch to open the security door. The only light sources were the night lights.

Then, he squeezed under the wood door that led to the basement staircase. How could he possibly even know where he was going? He was running, not walking, not sniffing, he was RUNNING like he was being called. Like he was being LED and in quite a HURRY too. When he squeezed under the basement door I was in full blown panic. SAM!!!!

Pikachu would look like a fuzzy squirrel to Sam. OMG!!!! I tore open the basement door and flew down the narrow staircase 2 -3 steps at a time, even though there were things on the steps, tools, etc. I didn't care. All I could think about was tiny Pikachu had just run down into the basement and was about to meet the canine version of Godzilla.

I slipped about midway down the stairs and had to catch myself from falling, but I didn't slow down. Pikachu was standing like a stature in the corner and Sam was staring at him, sniffing him. I jumped the last three steps and put myself between Sam and Pikachu. I swooped Pikachu up with my hand and ran back up the stairs with Sam looking at me, perplexed.

Pikachu was being led. It was the best way to describe it, through obstacles in the dark in rooms he had never been to, directly to small holes and gaps leading from one room to another. He didn't even slow down or hesitate. He had no knowledge of his surrounding. But, he didn't act like it.

It would be like me dropping you in a castle you had no knowledge of and asking you to navigate yourself through it while blindfolded.

How did Pikachu know where to run to? He'd never been in that part of the house. Not once. He wasn't spinning in circles trying to find his direction, if he had done that? I could have caught him. He did not stop, did not slow down, just ran as fast as his tiny legs could carry him through three rooms, under three doors, through one gate and down into the basement with me running barefoot at his heels.

Stepping on the occasional jutting nail as I sprinted down the stairs, nearly toppling over in the process.

It wasn't until I was back upstairs that I realize that I just sprinted down a dark narrow staircase with no shoes on and it could have been disastrous.

I talked to Tim about it. We couldn't figure out how Pikachu even knew where the basement was. Even the doors didn't slow him down, he just ran straight to the gaps and squeezed under. As if he had squeezed through that gate a hundred times before. When I told Tim I was running down the steps, he pointed out I could have been killed.

Let me bring one of my dogs to your house and see if he runs to your basement in 30 seconds flat... with all the doors closed. How did he know where to go? How did he know exactly where the holes were to squeeze through? Do you see what I am getting at? My only concern was Pikachu. I nearly lost my footing on the basement stairs.

It was like Pikachu was the bait and I was chasing it.

The stairs to my basement are narrow like at the rectory, but twice as long. Where the rectory has about ten steps, my basement has 20. So I was running down those stairs to rescue Pikachu, barefooted.

How bizarre is it that he jumped off the bed and ran straight to the basement? Through parts of the house he had never been to before?

I sat on the bed staring at Pikachu. Asked him what he was thinking and scolded him that he could have gotten us both killed... He's been sick for weeks, so where this sudden energy burst came from, is anyone's guess? He didn't stop to eat or drink, he just ran with lightening speed where no little doggie had gone before, with me in hot pursuit.

Like little Georgie chasing his sailboat along the curb, being led to the sewer and certain death by Pennywise the Clown in Stephen King's IT.

You remember that opening scene, don't you? The boat just floating along exactly to where Pennywise wanted it to go. Slowly leading that young boy to the sewer drain and into his trap.

** Tim and I even tested that theory. We tried to recreate it to see if Pikachu would do the same thing again. We put him on the floor in my bedroom and let him go. Pikachu stood there and looked at us. I even went into the kitchen and tried to entice him with treats. He just stood at the gate and stared at me and didn't even attempt to squeeze through.

I had to physically open the doggie gate and then he finally stepped into the kitchen. And, even then he just sniffed around, with not much interest, like he had no idea where he was. We couldn't even get him to go near the alleyway or basement despite bribes from treats or calling his name.

I have since patched the gaps so even the smallest dog can't squeeze through, so unless he buys himself a locksmith kit or builds a pair of stilts? There will be no more wild sprints to the basement putting us in harms way as I leap down a flight of stairs to catch him. When I think about it? It was a very close call. No running or jumping on stairs.

But, how come when we tried to recreate it did Pikachu show no interest and even acted like he was confused as to where he was? Where was that precision he executed earlier? Now, he was just a dog in a new room sniffing the corners... with little interest whatsoever.

Pikachu had been eating and drinking every day the past two weeks, but after his little race to the basement, he didn't touch his food or water all day. Luckily, today Pikachu seems okay, expect that pesky cough we can't get rid of.

So whatever Pennywise impersonator felt compelled to create the “Terrie chase the dog to her death” scenario - that knew I would not even hesitate to race down those stairs... Yeah, well - - - up yours.

In the same manner, Georgie's boat moved quickly along the stream of water as if pulled by an invisible string, Pikachu seems to be pulled by an invisible leash to places he had no knowledge of.

Something led Pikachu down into the basement, knowing I would follow.

“Because everything floats down here...” said Pennywise.

Get out of my house.


Daniel Hensley House



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