After Ginger, my Cocker Spaniel, died at the age of thirteen on Thanksgiving Day 2010, I suffered as never before.

A friend, a fellow dog lover I had met in Central Park, empathized. "The pain is worse than any I've ever known," he said. But he added, "You just have to ride it out."

As anyone who's lost a beloved pet knows, the friend was right.
Like so many others, however, I couldn't help wondering what -- if anything -- happened to Ginger next.

It was the ancient question of whether or not animals have souls.
But I resolved not to look for any signs of Ginger's spiritual carryover to a better place. Science has all but ruled out the legitimacy of such efforts and besides, why add disappointment to the grief?

Then a full nine months after Ginger died -- and while I was still grieving terribly -- things began to happen.

I had just arrived at the vet with Molly and Mandy, my two Shih Tzus, when I saw a tan Cocker Spaniel. "Come on Ging, let's go," said the owner.

Naturally, I stopped. "I had a tan Cocker Spaniel named Ginger too," I said. "How old is yours?"

Thirteen -- the same age as mine when she died. I grimaced at the irony.

The following month, as we were going in to see the same vet for a follow-up, the outside door opened. I saw a man bringing in . . . a tan Cocker Spaniel. I asked the dog's name. It was Joey. The dog was thirteen -- again, same as both Gingers. Just another coincidence, of course.

Then that night I saw two more tan Cocker Spaniels. One was named Molly, the name of one of my remaining two dogs -- and the one who was closer to Ginger.

A total of three Cocker Spaniels in a couple of hours on a "vet day," and I couldn't help thinking that several months typically go by when I don't see any tan Cocker Spaniels. They're just not that common anymore. (There are almost two dozen breeds that are more popular today, as well as the wide range of mixed-breed dogs.) And I walk my dogs for four miles every day in and around New York's Central Park, where we see dozens of dogs daily. As I thought about it, I couldn't remember another "multi-tan-Cocker" month -- let alone day -- in Ginger's thirteen years.

A few weeks later we were on our way to the vet again (Molly and Mandy are both 15, so we're at the vet a lot) when I saw . . . another tan Cocker Spaniel. I was becoming intrigued. On the way home, we saw yet another one. Either the coincidences were piling up, or somebody was trying to tell me something.

The following week, while on a short errand, I saw two more tan Cocker Spaniels within a few minutes of each other. I was puzzled -- this wasn't a vet day. Maybe Ginger was confused. But then I remembered this was the day I was supposed to call my vet with a progress update on Molly. Could the sightings be tied to that call? 


Then, another trip to the vet, and I'd be lying if I didn't say my hopes were up. Alas, I looked everywhere, but there were no tan Cocker Spaniels. I was disappointed, but after all, there had been four straight vet-related "sightings" and they couldn't go on forever. Maybe they were just coincidences after all.

But later that day -- a Friday -- I was debating whether to pick up a prescription from my own doctor. I had decided to wait until Monday but then said, no, let's get it over with.

On my way I saw the back of a tan dog as it got into a car about a half block away. (An instant later and I would have missed it.) Was it a Cocker Spaniel? I couldn't tell, so I ran to make sure the car didn't pull away. When I got there I saw a woman closing the door and ... two tan Cocker Spaniels in the back seat.

Speaking with an accent, the woman said the dogs were brothers. They were thirteen years old.

A week later, when I hadn't even been thinking about it, another sighting of a tan Cocker Spaniel -- this time while taking Molly and Mandy to the canine ophthalmologist, who was, after all, a veterinarian.

Yet another coincidence? Or more "corroboration"?

I called my friend Marc, who regularly runs in Central Park. "Now you've got me looking for tan Cocker Spaniels too," he said. "There aren't any out there." Well, I thought, if I'm going crazy, I'm not going crazy alone.

I decided to get a "scientific" perspective. I emailed a best-selling academic mathematician. Were the sightings simple coincidences or something more portentous?

The response was short and direct. "I don't think Ginger's trying to send you any signals, alas." (I don't know if that "alas" was for me or for him, since he too was a pet owner.)

The more I thought about his response, though, the more dissatisfied I became. One or two -- yes, I could see those as coincidences. But six? In reality there were no statistical probabilities for what I had encountered because, as far as I know, the sequence of events had never happened before. So the rational response would be to ask why or how they happened -- not dismiss them out of hand.

And if my encounters were not simply coincidences, what do they mean?
I know what I think. But if I'm right, why me? Why was I selected for this blessing? Only one answer is possible. I'm a writer and therefore have a duty to let others know about what happened to me.
If you've lost your own pet, I hope these words give you some comfort.

Postscript: After I sent this article to my friend Marilyn, I received the following email.

From: XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Subject: The Seventh Signal from Ginger
Date: 06/19/2012 01:23 PM
To: XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Dear Mark,
I've been trying to find the time to comment on your piece about Ginger. I'm glad I couldn't find the time to hastily do so, because of what was about to happen. Interesting enough, on Sunday Morning I left my apartment to walk the dogs a little later than usual. When I opened the door and walked on to the street I glanced to the right and coming toward me was a ginger colored Cocker Spaniel. Stunned, I just stood there as the dog and its owner passed right in front of me. Not certain if I was seeing what I thought, I quickly tagged along behind and stopped the owner to ask if that was a Cocker Spaniel and.... how old? He replied, yes, and he believed her to be around 12 or 13. I thanked him and walked away with many thoughts racing through my mind. The most significant being, if that incident wasn't confirmation for Mark's piece on Ginger, than I don't know what would be.
All the best,
Marilyn

Postscript 2: The eighth signal from Ginger?
Here are emails from my friends Marc and Larry. I asked them to describe what happened on July 19-20, 2012.
From: XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Subject: Last Week
Date: 07/16/2012 12:09 PM
To: XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Mark,
After dinner last week, you commented that while my connection to Ginger's story had up until then been as an interested party, what we had both just experienced that night now involved me in a new way.

To say the least.

That night, we selected a restaurant from any number of options on the Upper East Side, and sitting at a comfortable sidewalk table, had a leisurely meal and lively conversation ranging from movies (you haven't seen) to Russian literature. As we were about to part company, I asked whether there were any more incidents with Ginger.
Just at that moment your friend came around the corner, saw you, and excitedly told you that he had just seen a tan Cocker Spaniel not two blocks away. I thought the coincidence was astonishing. But then I learned that you had just given him a copy of your essay the night before. And that you hadn't seen each other for almost a year -- and then two nights in a row! And that the night before he and you had been talking about his own beloved Ginger, who died when he was a boy.

How many of these co-incidences need to occur before we call them by another name?
Marc

From: XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Subject: Re: Doggies
Date: July 16, 2012 6:04:37 PM EDT
To: XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Mark,
Last Monday night 7/09/12, after not seeing you and your two Shih Tzus for about a year we ran into each other at Gina's a new restaurant in the Carnegie Hill neighborhood. We talked about many things and in particular the sad loss of your beloved tan Cocker, Ginger. After a long conversation I walked home thinking about my own dog Ginger whom I lost when I was 10 years old. This was a major loss for me as a 10 year old. Ginger had been my pal and a very important part of my life for 6 years.

The next evening, after I read the article you had sent me on the amazing signals from Ginger, I'm walking my dog, an 11 year old Shih Tzu named Abby, and I run into a couple walking a tan Cocker! From there Abby and I continue our walk and there at Vico's restaurant are you, your two Shih Tzus, and your friend Marc. It is amazing because I had not seen you for almost a year and then I see you 2 nights in a row -- and I got to tell you about the sighting of the tan Cocker! What was even more amazing is that both of you were talking about Ginger when I got there!
Larry

Postscript 3: The ninth signal from Ginger?

Here is an email I sent my friend Marc describing events of July 21, 2012.
From: XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Subject: Again?
Date: July 21, 2012 3:28:18 PM EDT
To: XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Hello,
Just got back from a walk with the girls. Here's what happened. I had an appointment to take Molly to the neurologist today. Five minutes before we were going to leave, they called and said the doctor had an emergency and re-scheduled us for tomorrow. (A specialist who works on weekends!)

I took the girls for a walk instead and, walking down Madison (the same route to the neurologist), we saw ... aw, you guessed it. (It actually brushed up against the girls from behind.)

I ran into a friend in the park who has a white Cocker Spaniel and told her -- she was amazed.
What do you think?

Postscript 4: The cycle is over
I have been to my regular vet, the canine neurologist, and the canine ophthalmologist and have had no more encounters. So the cycle of signals from Ginger is over ... for now.

Thank you, sweetie.