Translated by Lisa Ringen
The eye patch was completely drenched with little tears and AMOS just could not stop crying. What had happened to him, was so incredibly horrifying, he could hardly believe it.
He had gone onshore for just a moment to discreetly sniff and touch noses with an absolutely gorgeous sheep-girl, when suddenly the dear pirates and their ship set forth without him, firmly believing he was on board. Seemingly the dear pirates had not noticed their loss until they shipped far away. In search for a hill AMOS ran further and further until he eventually hopeless fell into sleep. Like a whimpering heap of misery he had crept away into a ditch behind a bush as a shadow casted over him.
“Please don’t be afraid. You don’t seem so well, do you?!” A scrawny old man had bent over him and took a closer look at the wet eye patch.
“I am Grandpa Hermann. No, not a real grandpa. I don’t have any children, but that’s what they call me anyway, maybe because I behave like one. After all, not all mothers behave like mothers and not all politicians behave like representatives of the people. So I might as well be a grandpa.”
AMOS squinted against the sun.
“I am AMOS, a dangerous pirate-sheep and I have lost my dear pirate friends.”
Grandpa Hermann suppressed a grin and after a while of petting and stroking he tied the eye patch to AMOS’ other eye. Sobbing, the furry little fellow told the entire tragic story.
“So, your friends used to make hot chocolate for you and switched the eye patch to the other side? That was you true family? Oh, now I understand how you must feel. How about coming with me to my old cottage and calm down a little? I’ve got some hot chocolate for you and afterwards we think about how to go from here.”
He put AMOS onto his old bike’s trailer and reached the secluded cottage where hedgehog Jupp was snoring in a corner near the oven. Grandpa Herman wrapped his little guest into a blanket and as the hot chocolate was ready, the little pirate-sheep blissfully slumbered, breathing heavily and shivering a little bit.
“A pirate-sheep. Who would have known this morning, how the day would turn out. I’ve never seen pirates around here, not to mention dear pirates, but that doesn’t have to mean anything.” Grandpa Hermann reached for his reading glasses and read the newspaper’s local section where one event, reported in a hyped-up style, chased the next one, none of which appealed to him as worth reading. There was nothing about his unusual finding. Yet, they would find some hints, maybe with the help of people which have not become dull and indifferent?
“A new time has come. My life with AMOS and the quest to find his dear pirate friends. Well, we’re onto something.“