Bricco was a small dog who was absolutely convinced he was a great explorer.
Every morning, as soon as Clara opened the garden door, he set off to discover mysterious things: a leaf that ran faster than the wind, a scent hiding among the roses, or a suspicious noise under the pot of daisies.
But that day, he discovered something even stranger.
Clara came out with a colorful little bottle and a round wand. She blew gently and… little transparent moons began to float in the sky.
Bricco stared at them, nose up.
One passed right in front of him.
“Wow, a moon that smells like soap!” he thought.
He jumped to catch it. Pop! Gone.
Then another came, and another, all light and shining like happy thoughts.
Bricco jumped, spun around, and for a moment he felt like a dog who could fly.
Clara laughed, and every breath of hers created more.
Bricco decided he had to catch at least one, to keep it all for himself.
But as soon as he touched it — puff! — it melted into the air, like a laugh you can’t put in your pocket.
So he stopped, tongue out, heart beating fast.
The bubbles floated away toward the gate, and he watched them drift off.
Maybe, he thought, you don’t need to catch them — they’re beautiful just because they fly away.
Clara came closer and patted his head.
“Did you have fun, Bricco?”
He barked softly, as if to say:
“A lot. Bubbles aren’t meant to be caught — they’re meant to be chased. That’s the magic.”
And from that day on, every time he saw something light and shiny floating in the air — a butterfly, a leaf, or a dream — Bricco would dash after it, sure that somewhere out there, a little moon of soap was still waiting for him.
