Sasha was a mix of Labrador and Pitbull. Her coat was predominantly black, accented by a white patch on her chest and white markings on her paws. Sasha exhibited a high level of energy, which was not favored by my mother, though she managed to tolerate it. One evening, while returning from my dad's mom's house, we halted at a stoplight. I was seated in the front passenger seat with Sasha on my lap, engaged in conversation with my brother in the backseat, when Sasha suddenly began to growl at something outside the window. I glanced outside but saw nothing, and soon we were all feeling uneasy. Sasha escalated her behavior, snarling and pawing at the window as if trying to confront an unseen presence. Once the light turned green, we quickly drove away, and upon arriving home, we collectively concluded that Sasha must have seen a ghost. That night remains one of the most frightening experiences of my life. A week later, during a calm evening in the living room, Sasha once again started to growl, this time at the front door. Peering through the peephole, I spotted a man attempting to open the door. I signaled to Sasha to bark, and she responded with fierce barking, causing the man to flee. Although Sasha was a loyal companion, her hyperactivity intensified, prompting my mother to suggest finding her a new home. I agreed, understanding it was the best decision. We successfully placed her with a lively family that could match her energy. Despite knowing it was the right choice, I found myself in tears, as I had grown attached to her and missed her dearly.