These past few weeks, I’ve found myself revisiting some of my favorite Bella memories. Remembering all of her wonderful quirks makes me smile, even if that smile is often (okay, always) through some tears. In any event, I thought I’d share a few of these as I try to get back into the blog.
Today’s tale has it all – mystery, comedy… and even MURDER.
It was a cold night. Presents were stacked under the unlit Christmas tree. In the corner of my mother-in-law’s living room, a ceramic assembly gathered around an empty crib, quietly awaiting the arrival of the porcelain Savior. Faux-human and faux-animal alike, they patiently kept watch, anticipating the moment that the giant hand would place the baby in the miniature manger. Distracted by the imminent miracle, they failed to notice that one of their own was missing.
He wasn’t the fanciest sheep, nor the prettiest one. In fact, they never knew how he became a part of the flock. He was always there, but he was undeniably different. The leader of the flock accepted him without question, and the others followed like… well, like sheep. (Just calling ‘em like I see ‘em.)
That fateful night, the plastic sheep found himself separated from the ceramic flock. As he faced down the giant she-beast, he knew that he would not see the Nativity storage container ever again. Although she did not usually devour miniature figurines, his plastic scent was too much to resist that night.
Later, in the harsh light of Christmas morning, the crime scene revealed itself. Crumbs of plastic sheep littered the manger. It didn’t take a world-class detective to discover the culprit – after all, the small brown and white dog happily pooping out pieces of plastic sheep didn’t seem too ashamed of her heinous act.