OK. So a few weeks ago I’m all minding my own ever loving business (shut up! I can to mind my own business) and the dog, Pete, starts just freaking the heck out. He’s all barking at the wall and staring at something that was apparently moving up and down that I couldn’t see. He spent the next few days periodically leaping up and growling at various bits of thin air and running out of the room.
Then one night, we were all totally asleep. Pete was in our room because of the odd nothings he had been barking at and/or because he loves to cuddle with me. Around 2:30ish every single smoke alarm in our house went off at the exact same time. We have 7 of them. And a carbon monoxide detector which I insist on having after that one time my apartment complex caught on fire and my cat passed out and Luke yelled at me when I called him in the early morning hours and woke him up because I personally wasn’t on fire. Apparently, being personally on fire is the determining factor in when-to-call-your-boyfriend-during-a-pre-dawn-crisis. They all were going off. At once.
I poked Luke and/or smacked him in the head because like I said before, he’s not so good with the being woken up in the early hours of the morning and I patiently explained to him that all of the smoke alarms were going off. He stared at me for a couple minutes before finally comprehending what I said and rolled out of bed to check it out. I wasn’t too panicked because I didn’t smell any smoke and also I take lots of drugs to make me not panic. Almost as soon as he got out of bed, it all stopped. So he stood there a moment. And came back to bed. As he lay down…they all freaking started going off at the same time again.
Now it was a little weird. This time it lasted about 30-45 seconds and stopped. Then a few minutes later it happened again. All of them at once sounding their alarms for a minute or so and then stopping. Over and over. Luke was out of bed by this time and walking through the house checking each alarm and trying to make them stop. I was cuddled in the bed with Pete. So, Luke decides to sit in the living room and wait until the alarms start up again. He sat. And sat. And sat. And waited. And waited and waited and sat and cursed a little and sat some more. Then he decided that it was over and came back to bed. As soon as we hit the pillows and turned off the lamps, all the smoke alarms went off at the same time again! At that point I informed Luke that our house was, in fact, haunted because Pete told me so and Luke informed the smoke alarms and/or pesky ghost of what I presume to be someone's cranky boyfriend who was awakened early in the morning to cut that crap out. And it stopped. And it has never happened again.
Also, sometimes things are not where I left them, but I have OCD. I absent-mindedly move things around all the time while touching and counting so it could just be that.