Goblins are an eccentric bunch. Each is a being of its own individual personality, like you or I, but filled with energy and chaos. Most of them seem to be single-minded, focused on one task at a time, and easily distracted.
Unless they really, really want something.
During my time in Central, PA, I made friends with many goblins and a gnome who would visit on the full moon, and almost exclusively during the four to five days of the full moon. This gnome and I built a friendship. At first, I didn’t think I was seeing him. He’d come out of the ground, run around, and ask me questions about what I was doing.
The cats proved his existence to me.
One day, I’m sitting in my recliner while he is making himself known, running along the backs of the couches, jumping on the chairs, being a highly energetic being as usual. Crush, a black cat with a single white whisker, is my cat. She hates everyone… everyone—especially women.
Long story short, some children, girls, smashed her legs as a kitten before I owned her. So she never liked women. On top of that, she’s extremely jealous. When my mom or another woman calls, she knows instantly, saunters over, and begins rubbing my legs and screaming for attention.
All day long, she ignores me for the most part. It takes jealousy to awaken her “compassionate” side.
So… I’m sitting there with this gnome jumping around, and he jumps in front of Crush. She looks at him, looks at me turn my head to him, looks at him again, and realizes I can see him.
Queue the jealousy.
She screams at me, rubbing my legs and vying for attention. What does the gnome do? Well, he pulls her tail.
I couldn’t stop laughing.
Here’s a cat angry that I can see the invisible friend, and he’s antagonizing her, not hurting her, just having a laugh.
What does this have to do with goblins?
My gnome friend, who came from the rocks underneath the earth, is a bit of a drunkard. He loves beer and mead. Anytime I saw him, I knew two things…
1) The full moon was almost here.
2) Grab a beer or some mead to set out.
The first time I set out an offering, I watched him climb up my chair and onto the folding tv tray where it waited. He pulled the energy from it, remember these are non-physical entities most of the time, and as he did, his gut extended. He began burping, slurring, and acting slovenly. His attention span was never focused. Often, he’d ask a question, ignoring my reply as a cat walked by and he insisted on teasing it—making faces, pulling tails, antagonizing them any way possible.
It seems to be a common thread, Fae and cats don’t like each other.
After about a year or so, I found him with a group of dust sprites, much like the dust sprites of Hayoa Miyazaki’s
Spirited Away, only these were greenish blobs about the size of a walnut. He happily shared the offering with them as though they were having an energy absorption party of sorts.
Then the goblins arrived.
The first was fat, bulbous and full of spunk. When they arrived, my gnome friend was less than happy. Goblins are a more selfish bunch. I’d put out the offerings and see the chaos of these tiny creatures bickering about who gets what.
Then another goblin arrived. This one taller with a skinny frame, wide face, and purple complexion. This one was my problem child. He would berate me while asking for more beer, making faces, sticking out his tongue, and teasing, which the others would do, but he became annoying very quickly. My gnome friend was more intrigued by me, asking me questions, and using the cats for playtime, while the goblins were less interested in questions and more interested in “playtime”.
Somehow, I still loved my little goblin friends.
When I would put offerings out, I started making multiple offerings. I would put a glass on the table beside me so me and the gnome could talk. Then I put a glass or two by the kitchen sink, away from us, and gave it to the goblins.
Peace at last!
They stopped bickering and teasing. They left each other alone and enjoyed their individual offerings.
I don’t know if I could ever do this with an army of goblins, but to keep my rock gnome around and enjoy the excitable, teasing nature of my goblin friends, I was more than happy to share more.
Nowadays, I don’t see many goblins in our apartment as I write this. I have brought them home, but quickly realized our new friend, a brownie, was less than pleased, booting them to the curb.
Read more experiences like this in
The Fae(ry) Experiences, book one of The Awakening series.