This morning Bell brings me some little pieces of pink plastic from the backyard and asks what they are. I can tell she knows they mean something but can't place their importance. This is not new, there are pieces of things strewn all over our backyard. Purple Styrofoam noodle bits, water guns, shredded pool balls. You name it and our dill-hole dog has shredded it and strewn it about the lawn. (No one ever told me this about Pugs. And I asked a lot of people about them. For seven years.) So she places the pink things in my palm and I turn them over noticing they are softer than the usual stuff Pugmann finds to chew up. And it's a nose and an ear. And I scream like it's really a detached human face I'm holding. Because...
Brett and I have been trying to get pregnant for a while now. I joke with everyone that we are getting divorced because I am incapable of conceiving a child with someone I'm actually married to. But I got Bella this little baby doll that I fell in love with. She looked and felt real and said cute things in a cute and not annoying voice, like, "Mama? Mama. Dada? Dada." And then she'd laugh. And she sucked on a baba and went to sleep and breathed deeply and her chest would rise and fall while her eyes would close and she'd look so peaceful. And that is what the dog ate. He ate my baby's face.
So I told Brett when he came home for lunch that we knew harm had befallen Baby but we didn't know what the animal did with her body. Brett looked around and found her face down in the basement like Jon-Benet. Without the garroting. Or pineapple in her stomach. But I digress. So I pick her up and brought her upstairs, not thinking about leaving a pristine crime scene, again paralleling nearly exactly the Jon-Benet case. And I show Brett her face. Brett asks Bella if she wants to see baby before she goes night night forever. I mouth, "NO!" And whisper that it will traumatize her. He covers Baby's open mechanical face with his hand and lets her kiss the top of her head. I wrap her in an old rug and throw her in the garbage can outside. Now paralleling the crazy Utah County case from a few years back where the husband got caught in a web of lies and killed his wife and threw her out in a rug in an attempt to keep from their families that he didn't get into Med School. (Guess what? They found out, dip shizzle! And also, good call unnamed med school. He obviously wouldn't have handled the pressure.)
So the dingo ate my baby and now the dingo is roaming free in the neighborhood somewhere avoiding prosecution. He better make a break for Mexico.