A Nose For St. Patrick’s Day
By Chris McCloskey
Published by OnStage Publishing
Copyright 2015
March 15th
Tooten and I paused at the front door, and I took a deep breath. I had learned the hard way that sneaking in the back door and trying to pretend everything is fine never works, and you pay more in the end. I pulled on the slime green top hat and clamped on Tooten’s pointy elf hat. My cheeks and lips were still painted bright red.
We stepped into the living room to the blare of the first game of the first round of the Final Four basketball play-off. You could cut the tension with a knife until the three men got a good look at us. Two long seconds of silence and then they were laughing so hard tears streamed down their faces. Marty was doubled over, Nick was pointing at us, and even Cap, who usually tried to act like an adult, was slapping his knees. Tooten and I waited.
“Really getting into the spirit, huh Ter?” Nick sputtered.
“Eireann go brach…” added Marty.
“Huh?” I mumbled.
They cracked up again.
Then Cap tried to help us out a little, “So, how did the party rehearsal go?”
I gave up and plopped into a chair. Tooten reached up with a paw, pulled his hat off, and eased down onto the floor.
“You have to rehearse for a party?” Nick asked.
“Yeah, this is the major fund-raiser for Canine Ambassadors. It’s held in a big house on Mapleton hill. The lady who lives there, Mrs. Adani, is a big supporter. She has her house decorated like the end-of-the-rainbow and opens it up every St. Patrick’s Day to an invitation list of like a thousand people. Some come from out of state. The tickets are like a hundred bucks and there’s food stands and drink stands all over the house and the yard. It’s the job of all the ambassadors—human and canine--to maintain a station in costume. We have these sparkly green jackets and pointy shoe covers.” (The guys were trying to maintain.) “As you can see, the dogs have elf hats, green bandanas around their necks, and four-leafed clovers pinned to their vests. Mrs. Adani wanted them to wear real beards too, but Tooten lead a revolt and ate his.” (This time they could not maintain control.)
“So, what do you do, belt out ‘Danny Boy’ or what?” asked Cap.
“Who?” I asked as politely as possible. I’ve learned the guys can be very touchy about old stuff.
“Forget it,” he said.
“No, we don’t sing anything. There’s a musical group that walks around from room to room with like a violin and a little flute. We just stay at out station and direct people to the food and the restrooms. We answer questions about the dogs and generally act adorable.”
“How’s that working for ya?” Nick snickered.
I rolled my eyes and took the opportunity to escape downstairs with a cold cheeseburger and a can of root beer. I dropped my top hat and my sweat shirt in the middle of the room, and flopped onto what had become known as Kevin’s futon. I turned on the same basketball game they were watching upstairs and enjoyed the quiet atmosphere. Tooten knew how to respect a guy’s space.
Two days later, on March 17th the party was gearing up. Tooten and I were all dolled-up and positioned at the bottom of the curved stairs. Fireplaces were lit, lights were dimmed and the doors to the balconies were open, so people could stand out there and, as Cap would say, try to heat all of the outdoors. Tooten and I smiled (more me) and shook hands (more him). Really, it wasn’t too bad. I had only one problem.
Tooten did not like the dog, Elf Boston, who was stationed at the Pot-of-Gold in the entry hall with Leprechaun Jeremy. At the Pot-of-Gold, Leprechaun Jeremy and Leprechaun Sarah sold tickets in the shape of four-leaf-clovers for twenty dollars each for those who wanted to bid on the silent auction or they could file their credit cards with Jeremy and Sarah if they wanted to bid on the live auction for the big stuff like ski weekends or hot-air balloon rides.
I can count on one hand the times Tooten has shown dislike for a person or a dog, and usually he just gives ’em a sneer. But tonight, during the most important event of the year, when all the A-listers are wandering around, including Senora Sosa and the other board members who interviewed us for the Ambassador Club, Tooten gets snitty.
Go figure.
I first noticed the problem after I had bought one clover with a twenty Cap gave me to support the Ambassadors. I put it in my pocket. Then Tooten and me went to put on our costumes and headed to our station. It wasn’t until Jeremy and Boston walked by on their break that Tooten snarled at them. Boston snarled back and I told Tooten to “shake it off.”
Each time after that when we crossed paths with Boston, Tooten took the opportunity to put him on notice. I was losing my patience with Tooten, but it wasn’t until we stepped outside during our break to cool down that the situation broke loose. The house had become quite crowded and the costumes felt like portable saunas. I took Tooten out to the side yard to “do his business” when we noticed Jeremy and Boston beside one of the cars in the driveway. They were talking to some guy driving a beat-up Volkswagen bug. It stood out. The driver was waiting for the parking valet to move the car behind his, and he seemed impatient. I told Tooten we had to get back in when he lost control. He took a jump, pulled the leash out of my hand and tore over to where Boston was standing and started to bark like Tooten was crazed. I ran after him in a total panic and tried to pull him back. The dogs were creating a scene, but the disturbance got even worse when Tooten jumped at Jeremy and grabbed a mouthful of green sparkly material and proceeded to twist his head and shake the cloth with all his strength. He was very strong and even stronger when he was threatened or, as in this case, simply nuts.
The valet hustled over to the scene, whipped out his walkie-talkie and called somebody, somewhere about the incident. I tried to hold Tooten back, but I wasn’t doing much good. Just then the grounds maintenance man strode up and whipped out his walkie-talkie and called somebody else, somewhere else to contact the animal control authorities before he had to do something!
At that point, I saw Cap jogging up the driveway beside the cars. He was due to pick me up in a half hour, so we could meet the guys at Pizza Pie-In-Your-Eye for an end-of-elf celebration. Change of plans.
I gave one final pull on Tooten’s leash and yelled, “Stop it, Tooten. That’s enough!” And apparently it was enough, because right then the stitching at the top of Jeremy’s jacket tore. The pea-green material fluttered to the ground, revealing Jeremy’s fishing vest with at least ten pockets, all stuffed with cards and cash, including my sweaty twenty--probably the first “donation” Jeremy pocketed and was that scent that set Tooten off.
I stood in shock. Boston stopped barking. Tooten released Jeremy’s costume. The maintenance man made another call, and I heard a familiar voice.
“Terrance, what seems to be the problem here”?
I turned to see Senora Sosa in her hallmark steel-gray outfit (this time with her shoes on) scanning the scene. “I see you and Tooten have uncovered an apparent anomaly again.
“Clyde, will you take the boys, the dogs, and Captain Gonzales to your office over the garage? I’ll assure Mrs. Adani that the problem’s been taken care of and meet you there.”
We went to Clyde’s office where I told what happened while Tooten leaned against my leg, keeping a watchful eye on Boston. Jeremy gave some line about how he had to steal the cash and cards or else some big guy would hurt him. Cap called some of his police people, and got someone to deal with Jeremy, and asked if he could help Mrs. Adani return the cards and cash.
Tooten and I were released to take off our costumes and get something to eat. We sat on a couch half-hidden by the hu
ge crepe paper rainbow in the entry hall. After we had several green cookies and some mysterious green drink, we saw Cap step up on the first stair with the musicians’ microphone. He tapped it a couple times and started to explain what had occurred and how the money return would work. He seemed surprised when this old priest stepped up beside him, jerked the mic out of his hand and started in like he was on the pulpit--“I can smell a miracle when I see one! This event should have been a snatch and run, but one resourceful dog and his master intervened. I suggest we all complete this miracle by taking our cards and donating the unspent cash to our favorite charity, Canine Ambassadors!” Father FitzGerald waved Tooten and me up on the stairs, and we got drowned in the applause.
Within an hour everybody had gotten his or her auction item and credit card and was shuffling out into the cool air in high spirits. Cap and I put on our coats and said good-bye to Mrs. Adani.
Senora Sosa met us at the door, shook Cap’s hand with a nod, and said to us, “Terrance and Tooten, I look forward to our next meeting. You always seem to make it interesting. Happy St. Patrick’s Day!”
As we were walking to the car, I said, “That lady always gives me goose bumps.”
Cap cleared his throat and said, “Yea, me too.”
Then it was my turn to laugh and point and his turn to blush.
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