My cat Truman has started a new holiday tradition. In addition to knocking down any angels, carolers, and other gratuitous Christmas figurines I may have set out around my house in keeping with the spirit of the season, he’s bound and determined to mess with my crèche scenes. I have a couple of them set up, and at first he was after the wooden one that my parents bought in the “Holy Land” when they visited there in the 80s. Thanks to Truman, sheep were toppled, the donkey was knocked over, and the wise men were scattered.

That was bad enough, but then he discovered the nativity scene in my bedroom. This one was created by my multi-talented sister-in-law Reni. Before Reni became a psychologist specializing in gerontology, she used to make the most exquisite Christmas figures, tiny wooden ornaments, display figurines, and manger scenes. Reni had made my mother a beautiful nativity scene, complete with Mary, Joseph, a shepherd, sheep, the three kings, and the baby Jesus. The details she has included are just amazing. The shepherd has fluffy white hair and a fluffy white beard, and he’s holding a staff. He’s wearing a round-top brown hat with a wide brim. He’s very German looking (my sister-in-law is German). The kings, Mary, and Joseph all have cloth headwear and clothes. The baby Jesus is sweet and smiley, and he lies in a manger made out of twigs and filled with straw. The sheep have pinecone bodies, painted wooden heads, and toothpick legs. Just great stuff.

Well, Truman turned his attention from the wooden Holy Land crèche and started hovering near the Reni-created manger scene. I’d find him sitting on my dresser, where the scene resides, looking as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. If a cat could whistle, that’s what he would be doing to show that he wasn’t up to anything. Truman is a very cool character.

Then I started finding the various characters knocked over, usually the kings, but sometimes the lone shepherd, and occasionally poor Joseph or even Mary, the mother of Jesus.

That was bad enough, but then Truman started stealing the Baby Jesus, not just the Baby Jesus, but the Baby Jesus and the whole manger. Search as I might, I couldn’t find the Baby Jesus/manger near the rest of the crèche figures. He wouldn’t be on the dresser, just knocked aside, as the other figures were often found. Nope. He wouldn’t be on the floor right next to the dresser either. I could look left, right, and center, but no Baby Jesus.

Eventually, I would find the Baby Jesus, but he would be tucked away in the strangest places. I’d find him under my bed, or he might show up under the Christmas tree in the living room. He could show up tucked between sofa pillows or hanging out in the closet behind the laundry hamper. The Baby Jesus held up pretty well, but the manger was a little worse for the wear. The toothpicks that serve as its legs broke more than once. A little Elmer’s Glue and they were fine. Still, the Baby Jesus smiles. Now that’s what grace is all about.

I began to fear for Truman’s immortal soul. Stealing the Baby Jesus can’t be good, right? And why was it ONLY the Baby Jesus that he insisted on hiding. I began to talk to my friends and family about this strange behavior. Weird behavior isn’t something to be hidden; its something to be discussed with all who will listen. Most just found it funny. Some agreed with me that Truman is the Devil’s own child and is in danger of burning in hell for eternity. A church-savvy friend offered the alternate theory that Truman knows that Advent is about waiting for the Baby Jesus to arrive; Jesus shouldn’t be in the manger until Christmas day. While this could be the case, that would make Truman a very nitpicky cat with a deep understanding of liturgical matters. I didn’t adopt him until he was about three months old, so it’s possible he spent his early days in an Anglo-Catholic monastery, but nothing else has suggested that this is the case. He pays little attention to Lent and completely ignores Pentecost and the rest of the “green season.” (Who doesn’t?) St. Michael and All Angels registers not a blip on his radar.

And then my friend Bonnie offered perhaps the most plausible explanation for this strange behavior: She said, “Maybe he’s trying to save Jesus. Maybe he knows that things don’t turn out too well for Jesus and he’s hiding him from the people who want to harm him.” Bingo!? That’s got to be it. Truman isn’t being sacrilegious; he’s being devout!

Good for Truman. Still, I don’t think the Baby Jesus’s manger is going to survive such devotion for long. I’m trying to keep an eye on the nativity scenes around here. Luckily for them, they won’t be up much longer. Once they’re down, though, Truman’s going to have to find something else to focus on. My next holiday decorations are for Easter. Bunnies and duckies, beware!