It was a Moribana style of Ikebana I had chosen subconsciously. Minimalistic in a shallow container with a kenzan. I liked the idea of creating beauty with sparseness. The only problem was, I did not have the tools or a shallow dish or a kenzan. The flowers were there but which ones should go in Moribana? And how can I do this without looking at some pictures of what is typical in a Moribana? ChatGPT was no help giving me pictures that could be zoomed. At least not the free version. ‘Way to go AI’, I sarcastically remarked to no one in particular. My pup looked at me questioningly as I spoke aloud.

I struggled with the dilemma and the impulse to arrange flowers right away. They could not be left without water. And what if I lose interest in all this tomorrow? My unhelpful thoughts continued to swirl. I went from room to room, with my pup following me in tow. We halted every few steps, as my eyes searched for the right container. As I walked around searching, I remembered rustic but good ceramic pasta bowls I had thrown away a decade or so ago and wistfully longed for one of those right now. Unhelpful thoughts! I decided to create a sparse arrangement with three flowers and a green branch in a crystal snifter. The delicate snifter was carefully lined with glass marbles and steel fake slugs that had seen days cooling after-dinner drinks. It was not Moribana, I critically concluded, as I stared at the arrangement.

However, even as I created this mysterious arrangement, my eyes and heart looked for and finally settled on a small, ceramic hand-made pottery bowl that our newer friends had gifted us a few years ago. It was languishing on our entertainment console quite unused.  I thought it had the perfect color, depth, and size. Now came the hard part – arranging flowers in it and making them stay without a kenzan! The marbles and cooling slugs were no help there. But certainly, Amazon was helpful, and an order was placed for a shallow vase and a kenzan over an espresso and napping puppy nearby.

In a couple of days, I had the kenzan. I already had the bowl that I was going to use. I repurposed my flowers to create Moribana. It was not bad for making the arrangement for the first time in life by simply imagining the design with the flowers. But it was sparser than sparse. I sighed! I needed to hide the kenzan. I did not have more marbles. A YouTube video by Dan Cooper Garden gave me some ideas how to use greens in a Japanese flower arrangement. And off I went to the refrigerator to search for what could work and what could be spared. The food-vault (as my pup thinks about the refrigerator) provided me lettuce leaves and some parsley branches. ‘Perfect’, I thought. Me and my pup were excited but for very different reasons. I was happy to salvage the Moribana with lettuce and parsley that hid kenzan, while my pup rejoiced at the thought of getting crunchy lettuce treats. Yes, my pup is weird. He loves to eat greens as treats.

To my pup’s utter dismay, I used the lettuce leaves and parsley to hide the kenzan cleverly. I liked the final product and so did my family and friends out of sheer politeness. But my beloved pup was confused. I was not giving him crunchy treats. Instead, lettuce and parsley were hanging by themselves. ‘Life is cruel’, he must have thought, as he gazed at the arrangement longingly. I mistook his longing for a loving look at the masterpiece.

The masterpiece was ‘admired’ for next two days by me, my husband, and my pup for very different reasons. My pup, every few hours, sniffed in the library and glanced at the arrangement - sometimes casually, sometimes furtively, sometimes quizzically. But little did I know the workings of a puppy brain and its dead-focus on the lettuce leaves.

A thief studies the gem he is going to steal. He studies the obstacles, he studies the time when the guard is minimal, he studies the angle needed to reach it etc. And then it happens. Without a hitch or any warning. Swiftly and deftly, the gem disappears from the world. Forever. This is how it was with a lettuce leaf in the Moribana.

I had to step out to run some errands. Call it separation anxiety or an appropriate moment for my puppy to steal but I never noticed the missing lettuce leaf for a good 4 hours after I came home. And the only reason I noticed it is because my pup decided to hang out by the vase and stare at it even as I was searching for him. This never happens. He always answers me when I call him. I went to the library looking for him. And I saw him staring at the vase with only one lettuce leaf.

The vase was not toppled or even moved. There was not a drop of water spilled. There were no flowers removed. The windows were not open for the leaves to fall down or fly out. There were no leaf crumbs anywhere on the floor. But the arrangement now had only one lettuce leaf left. My husband texted me that he did not touch the vase and there were two lettuce leaves day before.

I moved the vase to a different but higher location. I removed the remaining lettuce leaf, just in case, it was also in a mood to disappear.

There was nothing to implicate my ‘innocent’ puppy. There were no clues. There was no proof. There were only side-eye looks and perhaps a hint of guilt on his face. But I can do nothing now except write about the mystery of the missing lettuce leaf.