It was a late spring night in April when the shelter dog first saw the ghost.

Now, Gypsy didn't know anything about supernatural beings. She was just a dog, after all, and one with a limited understanding of humans. And Pitbull #11 in a high-kill animal shelter, at that.

So when the ghostly glowing figure said "Hello." Gypsy was inclined not to answer. She couldn't understand humans- and they couldn't understand her. So, really, she was just hallucinating all this. Supposedly.

"You're really not going to answer a ghost?... Well, perhaps you can't understand me. In that case, why did I appear to a dog? Seems kind of messed up, how the only person I can talk to is a dog who's set to be euthanized in two days." The ghost's mouth moved as he blabbed away. "And... what's my name??" The man stroked his chin questioningly.

"How would I know? How do you understand my language?" The white Pitbull challenged with questions of her own.

"And what's euthanizied?" Gypsy asked. She spoke quietly so that she didn't wake Ace, a dog asleep in the cage next to hers.

"It means a humane way of dying. Without pain or terror. And it's set to happen to you two in two days. Says right there on the cage label. Human-agressive euthanasia for you, and shelter overflow for him."

Gypsy stared at him quellingly as he read off the labels, his scruffy moustache moving as his lips moved. She hadn't an idea what any of that meant. But the man kept talking anyway.

"Now, how do you figure that? I know what euthanizing is, but not my own name."

The white Pittie wasn't concerned with whether this guy knew his full name or not. She at least knew enough to know that dying was the end, and the opposite of freedom. Dying was like ducking underneath a river, not knowing what you'd find there. It could be pitch black and nothingness, or it could be full of plants and light. The uncertainty is what really got her.

"So... that's why we were moved down here. But... I don't want to die here. I want to die out there." She looked towards the basement window, a tiny slab of glass and plastic windowsill against the concrete walls. Upstairs was much nicer, where the walls were all covered by paw-printed wallpaper and large "Adopt Us!" Signs perched around every corner. Down here, there was no adoption rooms. There was no cages full of countless old dogs, sick dogs, sad dogs. It was just Gyspsy and Ace, in their separate cages with their separate thoughts.

She wasn't paying attention as The Ghost gasped. She was beginning to grow fearful, her fur lifting at the principal
of euthanasia. The ghost-man gasped as he looked just ahead of him with wide eyes.

"I had a vision just now. Fancy that... my first vision. I'm some kind of sorceress after death! Can I vision-up my own past? Here, let me try...." He closed his eyes and squeezed them so hard that Gypsy would've seen the wrinkles pop up around his forehead if she'd been looking.

"I could get you out of here. I know how to open that gate!"

This time, Gypsy really looked at him. He was a fully-grown man, with boot-cut blue jeans, dusty old brown Carthart boots, and a tussle of brown messy hair atop his head. The hair was squashed beneath a white cowboy hat.

Gypsy realized that he had some age-lines around his face, but not enough to consider him an old man. His shirt was a Harley Davidson motorcycle tee, with a tan Carthart jacket hugging his shoulders to match the boots. He had a faint 'shine' emitting from him, a sort of halo of light that seemed stuck to his apparition.

He is a ghost, If I ever saw one. But why is he here? Why is he dead? And can I only see him because I'm about to die, too? The she-dog stifled a whine of fear.

"Ace," Gypsy whimpered towards her companion's wire cage. None of this made sense. Perhaps the man-ghost was sent to ensure her death, not postpone it.

"Ace, wake up! There's a ghost here and he's saying strange things. Saying he has no name and that the people will humanely kill us in two days, whatever that means- THERE IS NO WAY TO HUMANELY DIE if you ask me but ACE-" She barked louder, even more desperately this time, but Ace was finally waking up.

His Black-and-cream pelt was flattened on the side he had laid on it. Young Ace looked weary at first, then the whites of his eyes flashed as he saw Ghost.

"Gypsy-what-!"

"He appeared to me a few moments ago and he's saying we're gonna die in two days but that he can help us escape now. Catch up already!" Gypsy snapped, growing impatient. She felt she was now just waiting to die.

"We have to take the chance, don't you think?" She fixed an intense gaze on his.

"Or can't we trust him because he's a human?" She swung her head back towards the ghost accusingly. What if this is a trick? But then....how could the dogs understand him?

"What's your name?" Ace asked, and Gyspy was initially annoyed for being ignored.

"I dont... have one." Ghost rubbed his chin forlornly, then threw his calloused hands up.

"Yep, nothing. I can't remember my name, or who my parents were. In fact, the only thing I do remember is that this is my first memory. Appearing here, seeing this room is all I can remember. There's nothing before it. Almost like... I was just born minutes ago, or something. Although... wouldn't it be the opposite?" His human-y eyes flicked across Gypsy's in question. "Wouldn't I have died a few minutes ago, since I'm a spirit now?"

Ace nodded reassuringly, while the white Pitbull thought it was weird how Ace was vividly communicating with a human. Her impulse was always to disregard them, since she couldn't understand them previously anyways.

Plus, all humans brought her pain in the end. They'd never given her anything that lasted... besides heartache.

Sure, a treat there, a soft blanket there, and for what? For them to turn their back on her and leave her in this shithole? Gypsy snorted as Ace and Ghost talked.

"It's strange, I agree. But there's nothing more we can figure out tonight. Perhaps we can understand all people now, and... something happened tonight that changed how humans and animals communicate?" His eyes flicked towards Gypsy.

"Well, I say we wait until tomorrow and test it. We can see if Ghost is able to interact with the staff, and see if we understand them better now; since we can understand Ghost."

She frowned as Ace turned back towards Ghost. Who cared about all that?

"And I'm sorry for calling you that. I just have no other title to give you," Ace said formally as he turned a circle in his kennel.

"It's alright.... I can't do anything about it until I remember my name, anyhow." The man sighed and shifted his feet a bit, though not a sound emitted. "Sleep well."

Gypsy's nerves jumped. "Ace, we can't just go back to sleep! We have to get out of here before they euth-... kill us." Gypsy picked up her white ears, expecting her companion to rise. They'd been in their previous home together, and knew each other well.

"Ghost said the euthanasia was scheduled for two days from now, Gypsy." He sounded tired and unworried, further driving the pitbull's nerves into a spasm. "When we wake up tomorrow, we'll see if Ghost can talk the other humans into letting us go."

However, as Gypsy seethingly sat and thought about that, she couldn't help thinking that it would be too far-fetched. For one, Ghost had spoken in the dog language. And as far as she could tell, he hadn't admitted to understanding their language as well as people's. Ghost had also appeared to them, now, not some other humans tomorrow. What if he dissapeared before then?

Ghost is here to help us, not make us wait until we die. I know he is... I can feel it.

And if Ace can't see that, it's his loss. Gypsy thought about doing what she wanted to, they shoved the idea down. Then, as it resurfaced, so did a choking feeling of guilt.

I'm going whether Ace wants me to or not. Ghost had a vision just to help me escape this place... how could I not take it?

"I want to leave now," she said after a long span of silence between her and Ghost had passed. The only light in the room was that of a weak desk lamp, and Ghost's glowing figure.

"What about Ace?" Gypsy peered around her cage bars, seeing Ace curled on the floor with his fluffy husky tail wrapped across his nose.

"It's okay," Gypsy assured him. "Ace and I are friends, but not mates or siblings. He'll understand."

Something burned and rolled in the Pittie's gut. But you know he won't. Ace was understanding and patient, yes- but he never acted on rash, impulsive thoughts. That was more of Gypsy's thing.

Well, he'll have to understand that this is my thing. And him waiting and learning more before taking action is his thing.

Ghost nodded. "Okay, all you have to do is..."

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Gypsy