If it's not to much to ask, kindly uncage the lamb

Dear Mr. Lion:Your unexpectedly early arrival -- when was it, last November, maybe October? -- has made for a few interesting months in our neck of the woods.

Normally, we expect you to show up in early March. We tend to welcome your bluster and fuss, because it means another visitor will soon arrive, usually by the end of March.

I'm talking, of course, about that cute, fluffy lamb.

Mr. Lion, let me be direct: What have you done with our little lamb?

Surely by now you have had more than enough fun with your shenanigans. You have left us with vivid memories of one of the worst winters ever, weather wise.

Isn't it time for you to tackle a gazelle or something? Surely all this Arctic air has given you quite an appetite.

Before you go, there is one question: Why have you pounced on us so many times on the weekends of winter? It's almost like you have an alarm clock perpetually set for Saturday so you won't forget to pound your chest on Sunday.

Are you just messing with God? Do you really think, Mr. Lion, that you are a suitable competitor for the Almighty?

Look at the pattern. Many churches have called off Sunday services because you got a wee bit rambunctious. And even when church doors were open, your antics kept attendance way down.

Think about it. When God sacrificed his only son for the sins of the whole world, He didn't leave us with the image of sending the king of the jungle to a cross. No, he sent a Lamb, a pure and innocent offering.

That's what we want now, Mr. Lion. We want our lamb. It's time -- way past time in the normal scheme of Southeast Missouri winters.

I hope you will receive this missive in the spirit in which it was sent. No one is trying to pick a fight. Not with you. But don't you think you've kicked enough sleet in our faces for this go-round?

This letter, sir, is a gentle reminder that we are more than halfway through March. We are ready for spring. It is time. It is time, Mr. Lion, for you to ease up a bit, take a break, relax.

And let the lamb loose. Please. We're ready for puffy white clouds in blue skies. We are ready for moderating temperatures. We are ready to store our snow shovels. We have made the makers of ice-melting chemicals rich. We have paid more overtime to road crews than we can really bear.

Mr. Lion, surely you see the sense of this letter. You are a smart animal. This appeal to your better side is made with hopes for the best of outcomes -- for you and for us.

Thank you in advance, Mr. Lion, for your close and heartfelt attention to our request. Send in the lamb.

Joe Sullivan is the retired editor of the Southeast Missourian.