“Yes,” Jeannie admitted with a nod. “But it was a very little dog. He fit in my purse. And he was just as foul as a dog as he was as a leprechaun.”
She bit her lip. She did not want the other woman to think that she was a horrible genie, like some of her kind, that went around simply turning people into other things for the fun of it. Jeannie was not that kind of djinn.
“He spit at me,” she explained. “He is a very, very rude leprechaun. He is too tall, he swears, he drinks, he sings loudly in public parks and he spit at me. I had to teach him a lesson, you see. People should not spit.”
Seeing an opportunity to make her point, she added, “This is why you should not look for people with special powers. They are rarely good. Any magical creature has quirks, and most of them are not good for mortals to be around. I will help you find better people for your story. Maybe you could do it on heroes! Like police officers or firefighters. Or astronauts! I’m sure we can find somebody wonderful for you to interview.”