Charlie’s Corner is the domain of Charlie, the furry four-legged lady’s man of the Market Common. Each month, he’ll share information to help all new, visiting, and existing doggie community members get the most out of life alongside their human companions. We’ll feature his reflections on what it’s like to be a dashing downtown doggie, as he reminds all of us how to play well together. This month, Charlie has a chance encounter with the Easter Bunny, who’s still out and about in the Myrtle Beach underbrush.
With I’m-happy-it’s-May type thoughts in my mind, I decide to head out to the park and take in the aromas near some of my favorite bushes. As I’m snuffling around, I catch a whiff of something unexpected. I have company! It smells familiar, but there’s a certain twang that I can’t seem to identify. I poke my head a little more deeply into the bush and something very fuzzy and soft brushes my nose then whisks away.
“Well really! Do you mind!? I do say!” comes the exclamation. Surprised, I pull my head out of the bush as a twitching nose and a pair of whiskers confronts me. It’s a bunny. “What do you mean by poking your nose into my fluffy nether regions, hmmmmm?”
“I didn’t know they were your…fluffy nether regions,” I retort defensively, affronted that the talking bunny is questioning my manners. After all, I write a manners and etiquette column. I’m ready to say so but before I can he replies, “Yes, well they are and they’re off-limits to you!”
“Well all right then! There’s no reason to get in such a huff.”
The bunny looks somewhat mollified so I venture a question. “Who are you?” “Why I’m the Easter Bunny, and I’m a girl, by the way. But I see you referred to me as a ‘he’ in the text up above.”
“The Easter Bunny?!” I manage, completely ignoring the other part of the statement. It’s way too much for my May-infused doggie brain to process. “But Easter was last month! Aren’t you behind schedule?”
“Yeah, well, I don’t hold much with time,” she declares airily, “I’m always fashionably late.”
Astonished by this reply as much as by the figure itself, I can’t think of anything to say except, “Oh.”
“Plus my cousin, The White Rabbit, you know the one, anyway, he’s simply obsessed with it. Always looking at his watch and worrying, talking about how he’s so late. I can’t be bothered with that stress. It’s bad enough trying to carry all these eggs around in a basket without breaking any.”
“Are you here to give me a present?” I blurt out.
“Why, would you like an egg or some candy?”
“No,” I stammer, feeling uncomfortable. “Chocolate makes me sick.”
She’s really pretty, a little smaller than me, with a gleaming white coat and long floppy ears, and doesn’t seem to be much taken with me at all.
“I mean because I’m Charlie of Charlie’s Corner, and usually when I meet… when I meet… I mean…” I stammer unsure of whether my impulse to call her a magical creature might be offensive. She just looks straight at me while I blush profusely and feel progressively more miserable, unsure what to say or do next. There is a long and uncomfortable silence during which I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping this is another dream and I’ll wake up. But when I open them, she’s still there, just looking at me. Finally she sighs, like she’s been through this a thousand times before, and sort of shakes her head.
“Well then, I should get going. But you should consider writing children’s books. You’re not half bad at your column you know.”
“How can you read my thoughts?” I ask astonished remembering her earlier comment about being a she.
“I’m the Easter Bunny,” she replies pertly. Then she gives me a wink and says, “I’m magic.” And in another blink, she was gone.