Jingle Bear's Christmas Tragedy

Every family who celebrates Christmas every year has their own traditions.  One of our favorite traditions started when my daughter (pictured here) was one year old and her grandmother gave her a stuffed polar bear named "Jingle Bear."  What we would do is place Jingle Bear on our front porch at the front door, have someone ring the doorbell and then hide.  Then I would take my daughter to the front door saying, "Who could this be on Christmas Eve?"  We would then open the door and there would be Jingle Bear.  I told my daughter that Santa sent him to spend Christmas with her every year, because she was Jingle Bear's special friend. 

As she got older, on Christmas Eve, she would start asking me early in the day, "Mom, when do you think Jingle Bear will get here?"  Every year her dad and I would find sneaky ways to get him and Jingle Bear out of the house and onto the front porch and ring that doorbell, without our daughter catching us.

Jingle Bear is a pretty plush polar bear with a red and green snow hat that had Jingle Bear on the front. He/She also sported his/her snow mittens tied around its neck. A few years after the original Jingle Bear joined our annual celebration, my mom found a smaller version of Jingle Bear with the same hat with Jingle Bear on the front and the same little gloves tied around its neck. She bought it and gave it to me and told me to add it to Jingle Bear's annual visit as "Jingle Bear's baby bear." Well, of course!

So that year when the doorbell rang on Christmas Eve, there was Jingle Bear with "Baby Jingle Bear" (turns out Jingle Bear was a girl!). Upon opening the front door my daughter exclaimed, "Look mommy, Jingle Bear has a baby!"

As she got older and gave up her belief in Santa dropping Jingle Bear and her baby off for their annual holiday visit with the McCormick family, the tradition changed just a little.  Now the fun revolved around our ability to place Jingle Bear and baby on the porch, ring the doorbell, get back into the house, all without getting busted by my daughter.  We did this every year with the help of distractions like the VCR, visiting friends, going out for Christmas Eve to look at the lights while a neighbor placed the bears on the porch and then there they would be when we got home.  I think we only got "caught" one year during the teenage years, which resulted in a lot of hilarity and jokes.

My daughter is now 25 and off creating her own life and Christmas traditions. So as I prepared for her visit for Christmas, I took Jingle Bear and baby out of storage and placed them out to air out and get ready for their Christmas Eve arrival, before my daughter came to town. 

That was when tragedy struck.

When I put Jingle Bear and her baby on the chair to air out, I forgot about my dog Crash's obsession with stuffed animals. I just didn't even think about it. So imagine my horror when I came home from the grocery store and found this situation in the backyard.

"Bad dog, bad dog", I cried.  I tried to revive the victim but Jingle Bear Baby had been thoroughly slimed and dragged through the dirt and mud in the backyard.  He/she (never been sure of Jingle Bear Baby's gender) was really messed up and missing an eye! Sitting next to his mother Jingle Bear, the extent of the damage was undeniable.  My daughter would be home in just a couple of days and I thought I would find a substitute baby while I got Jingle Bear Baby repaired.

While this little white polar bear plush animal was not Jingle Bear Baby, he would just have to do for this Christmas visit while his predecessor was in rehab, getting an extreme makeover and new eye.  But as soon as I put the new baby with Jingle Bear so the two could bond, before Christmas Eve. I no more turned my back for just a minute when Crash struck again.

Clearly my dog Crash had a serious addiction.  I was going to have to get him help, but first I needed to assess the extent of his addiction.  I reasoned that I needed hard cold visual evidence of the extent of his problem.  I could then show him these pictures so he could take that first step and admit he had a problem he couldn't control.  So I stepped aside and placed Jingle Bear out as bait (forgive me Jingle Bear) so I could collect photo evidence to help Crash confront his addiction.  Here is what happened.

I immediately jumped in to rescue Jingle Bear.  I showed Crash the photos I took and confronted him with the seriousness of his stuffed animal addiction.  I wish I could say he was repentant and willing to give up his addiction and get help.  All he did was sniff the computer and go out in the backyard and dig up a dog chew he had stashed and proceeded to devour it with not a bit of remorse. 

My daughter came home and enjoyed the story of Crash's assault on Jingle Bear Baby and his/her mom.  She didn't get too upset as I already had Jingle Bear Baby at the doll hospital getting his/her (still don't know its gender) extreme makeover and eye repair.  We had fun getting Jingle Bear and cheap substitute child out onto the front porch without getting caught (this year's distraction involved You Tube videos), and a good time was had by all.