His name is Dennis. He’s been with us for seventeen years.
The other night, the Son informed me that when he moves out, he plans on taking Dennis with him.
Get your own poltergeist.
So by now I’m sure half, if not all of you, are starting to think the elevator’s not stopping on the top floor.
But before you judge me, hear me out.
Just for a minute I want you to think of how many times you’ve misplaced things; looked for them for days.
And on the day you stop looking, they appear, as if by magic.
Car keys, house keys, jewelry, money, or even a favorite pair of running shoes.
It could be anything.
Now think of how many times you’ve heard weird noises, and I don’t mean someone whispering “Oooooo” in your ear.
I mean, things falling, water running in the sink, or doors slamming, even though there’s no one in the home at the time but you.
If you’ve answered yes to any of these questions, there’s a good chance you have a Dennis living in your home.
So what’s my Dennis like?
Mischievous, deaf, brave, and forgetful.
I have no idea what he looks like, but I do know he likes to take things, returns them only when he’s good and ready and does not comply with my loud shrieks of “Give me the damn keys, now!”
Lately he’s taken on the endeavor of tormenting Roxy.
Twice this week I have walked in on her barking her ass off to nothing but thin air.
It’s after I holler, “Dennis, play nice!” that poor Roxy is able to exhale and settle down.
For the most part Dennis is good at returning what he “borrows,” but we have yet to recover two passports, a gold bracelet, a pair of tights, and a pink flash drive.
This makes me wonder if Dennis might be a crossdresser who’s posting stolen files from a WiFi cafe in Switzerland.
However, what I do know about Dennis is that he won’t leave me.
When the Daughter moved out, she extended an invite for him to follow her.
He declined by refusing to make an appearance until she and all her belongings had exited the building.
The other night when he heard the son’s desire to have him as a roommate, I sensed his uneasiness.
He’s too courteous to say no, but smart enough to know his survival depends on remaining with the alpha. (That would be me, in case you’re wondering.)
Not to mention other perks which include travel, round the clock coffee aroma, and my habitual tendency of forgetting where I put everything.
(This last part accounting for half the fun of living in Casa Bella)
So there you have it.
Readers, meet Dennis. Dennis, meet Readers.