Charlie Meets a Leprechaun and Acquires Some Luck

Well, charming as that squirrel was, I’m happy to report that I’m no longer in love. Gee-whiz, that naked chubby baby really wreaked some havoc with my doggie-heart. (Catch up on last month’s story here if you missed it.)

But it seems my chance run-in with cupid and ensuing affection for my inamorata has only lasted as long as the Valentine’s Day season. We parted, both knowing that it was for the best.

As I settle in for a much needed nap, I dimly hear the rumble of distant thunder, and as I doze and dream, the pitter-patter of a March rain. I awake to a brilliant stream of light coming through our balcony doors. As I amble out to the terrace, I see a rainbow in the sky. I love rainbows! I’m overwhelmed with joy, and bound down the stairs and into the park for a closer look. I scamper, closer and closer, until I seem to be surrounded by a prism of colors.

“This has never happened to me before when chasing a rainbow,” I think, as everything about me begins to swirl and seems to be swallowed by vibrant hues.

And then…

“Thump! Whump!” and “Arf!” I exclaim loudly as all is confusion around me, and I sit up dazed, rubbing my paws to my head. A very round, very short, very indignant man dressed in green, with a top hat and a little pointy beard is standing in front of me.

“What are you?” I manage to ask still rubbing my head.

“I’m a leprechaun,” comes growls the creature, in reply.

“I thought leprechauns were happy,” I say suspiciously. “And where am I?” I ask, taking in my surroundings. I know my back yard as a very green place, but everything here seems to be a glowing emerald color.

“Why you’re at the end of the rainbow lad. And how ya’ came to be here,” he says, thrusting his substantial girth into my face, “is what I’d like to know.”

“I was chasing a rainbow,” I say feeling my familiar tongue-tiedness in the face of unknown, assertive little creatures, return.

“Hmmm,” grunts the leprechaun. “And what is it ya’ be wantin’?”

“To see pretty colors?” I venture hesitantly.

“Hmmm,” grunts the leprechaun again, rubbing his beard thoughtfully, “not usually enough to land ya’ hereabouts. You don’t happen to have the luck o’ the Irish do ya’? Tis’ the only thing I know of that could land ya’ this end of the rainbow.”

“Well, we’re not really certain about my family tree,” I say a bit embarrassed by the wayward tendencies of my parents. “I just must have the luck of Charlie of Charlie’s Corner!”

At these words, the leprechaun starts, and says, “Aye, you’re him are ya’? That be it then. It’s the great love ya’ have in your heart for your people, and the great service you’re doin’ in the Market Common helpin’ to build community that gave ya’ the power to transport here. And in return, I be givin’ ya’ a present to help ya’ with your work.”

So saying the leprechaun stoops and sweeps up a four-leaf clover from an especially verdant patch of grass, and blows it into my heart.

“Fare thee well, Charlie,” he says as everything about me begins to swirl in a mist of beautiful, vibrant colors once more, “and may the luck o’ the Irish accompany ya’ to help ya’ with the task of building community in your home.”

I wake drowsily and give a luxurious doggie-yawn. ‘What a curious dream I had,’ I think to myself, as I head towards my water bowl. And boy do I feel ready to work!

Then, as I gaze down into its depths, I swear I see a little face with a pointy beard and a green top hat, give me a decisive wink, then disappear.

Until next time,