My own ghost adventure

I can't be sure, but I think I might be haunted.

The other night, sometime after 12am, I woke up to Dave kneeling at the end of the bed. One of the dogs was down there, so I assumed that he was probably moving her or something of that nature. (She tends to take over his side quite a bit.)

I felt the end of the bed moving as if Dave were fidgeting down there FOR NO REASON. I dislike being woken up, so I figured I'd squint open my eyes and give an exasperated sigh that meant, "Stop whatever the hell you're doing and go to sleep."

I opened my eyes and saw his outline -- his hair looked messy and he was facing me -- and even though he couldn't really see me in the dark, I rolled my eyes. Then I did my sigh and flopped over on my side, facing his part of the bed.

And that's when I noticed Dave sleeping peacefully right fucking next to me.

WHO THE HELL WAS ON MY BED?

The foster dog does not have a human face with messy boy hair, so it wasn't her. How freaky is that?

Even more freaky when I remember two nights earlier when I felt Dave touch my stomach while I was half-asleep. I peeked open to see him and, once again, he was passed out next to me. I brushed it off thinking that it must have been one of the dogs (their paws turn into human hands at night, right?) and went back to sleep.

But now?

I don't know.

I'm gonna have to call Zak Bagans to investigate.