A few of my friends and I went ghost hunting the other night. When I say ghost hunting, I mean it in the broadest sense. What we actually did, was walk around the outside of a mansion which we couldn’t get into with out some effort. Since it was after work and none of us were remotely prepared for any actual expeditions, I suppose it was probably a good thing that we left the mansion unexplored.
We went to Wymering Manor, which is, apparently, one of the most haunted properties in Britain. Since I’d never been on a ghost hunt before, I was pretty excited to go, even for just the creepy vibes. I was pretty disappointed simply because there were no creepy vibes. It didn’t help that less than half the group actually wanted to try to get into the place. I felt as though it was one of those places that you had to physically get inside to sense anything off about it. Our trip there was short-lived since we had other places we’d planned to go to and some of the girls were spooked by us suggesting getting inside.
It was on our way to site number two when we found the dog.
He was lovely. We were nearly where we wanted to be when this golden retriever ran across the road in front of us. Luckily, he was pretty friendly and he ran up to us as soon as we whistled for him. He didn’t have a name badge but he did have one of those reflective light up collars which some people get when they walk dogs at night. It was pretty much two in the morning so there was no way that anyone would be willing to take him in. Not for lack of trying though, we called the police, the RSPCA and a dog warden with no success.
We drove round for another hour trying to find someone who looked like they might be looking for a dog. We eventually gave up after one of us managed to convince his parents to let him keep the dog round their house for the night until we could find his owner.
Turns out the dog’s name was Lucky, and I’m pretty sure he is since his owner got hold of us the next morning and they were reunited by the afternoon.