On another thread, I spoke of two of my animals. (Stuffed- no not taxidermist stuffed, just stuffed…)
Some might say, I have a less than normal relationship with them. My most special one is Blair. He’s a white bear with outstretched claws (er…paws), a cotton-white, soft as down crotch, maniacal black eyes, and is half strangled by the most adorable mint green ribbon.
My other animals are- Alex, a white rabbit, a Pikachu dolly, and a lion with a “Columbia” shirt on.
What I want to know is…do you think I have a normal relationship with my animals? (Keep in mind, my age is not in the single digits, and hasn’t been in quite a few years.) Am i doing too much for them? Not enough? Should I take up macrame instead and just haul the stuffed ones up off to the orphanage in Taiwan?
Zoggie, that’s nothing, one of my teachers looked like she wanted to send me to the counselor’s office because of my stuffed animals. Mainly because my special stuffed animals are my adopted children and they have full names and various adopted father.
I have two lizards, both exactly the same but one has been lost in my house somewhere. Their names are Lucifer Bob Nothorien and Lucifer Bob Nothorien II. The first one’s father is my now ex boyfriend Danny. The other lizard’s father is my good friend’s child, he now happens to be my best friend’s boyfriend and my adoptive father, long and complicated don’t ask. They’re tie dyed mostly reddish lizards with yellow eyes that look silver if you tilt them right. Ty Beanie Buddies.
My third adopted child is named Lobster, he’s a stuffed bunny rabbit, that’s my friend Tom’s child. He’s the most adorable fawn colored Easter bunny with a brown ribbon around his neck, he’s a little bedraggled right now though.
My latest child I got this weekend, he’s an adorable raccoon that could stand on my hand. He’s adorable and oh so cute, I usually carry him in the hood of my sweatshirt/jacket or lately in my front overall pocket. Any suggestions for a name?
Zoggie, you and FPKitty are rank novices. I could list all of my stuffed babies, however, I don’t really have the time right now. I could list briefly for you, and leave the names for later. I currently have two purple bears on my dashboard, keeping the hedgehog and the purple armadillo company. I have 4 other purple bears of various sizes and shades scattered around my house. Approx. 15 other teddy bears, and I believe I’m up to around 40 Ty Beanie Babies. I also have an adorable penguin who’s missing one of his red earmuffs. My light beige tribble watches over me at night, and resides on my headboard. And, my biggest teddy stands about 3’ tall, is a light brown, and hubby won him for me while at Astro World in Houston about 21 years ago. He slept with me the entire time hubby was in Turkey, and often sleeps with me now. His name is Melvie.
purplebear, I have tons more stuffed animals that I love and are sitting calmly in my room but I don’t want to get into all the names and the ones I mentioned are the only ones I’ve officially adopted.
Hey do freshman count? I own three of them, they’re soft and cuddly so can I add them to my list too?
I have all of my stuffed animals. I still sleep cuddling my teddy bear and my pillow person everynight, because I’ve been sleeping that way for years. They’re big and soft and I also have my flannel body pillow on my bed. Nice and cozy.
Then I have stuffed bunnies, bears, Beanie Babies and Pooh all around my room. Stuffed animals kick ass, peeps.
Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.
However, love your stuffed animals-don’t love your stuffed animals, if you know what I mean.
Yeah, I’m part of this crowd, too. When I’m not sleeping with a significant other, I sleep with a bear–I just have to hold something at night. I even take him on business trips with me. I also have a bunch of other stuffed animals–some from childhood, some significantly newer, I mostly bears and big cats–tigers and various leopards, and Pooh and friends (classic, not Disney). I’ve thought of outgrowing them, but why bother? They give me enjoyment and comfort, and my friends always have a back-up gift if they can’t find anything else.
I’m starting to think that my large number of dog stuffed animals reveals something. I used to have a stuffed dalmatian (yes, from 101 Dalmatians)- that was Lucky. And assorted other dogs…plus now I have 3 beanie dogs. Maybe its a fixation, you know? A subliminal urge for a canine companion. The way those scary old childless ladies collect creepy Victorian porcelain dolls.
Blair is starting to get restless. Did I mention he’s not your average stuffed bear?
Um… I own three freshmen… and a few stuffed animals, but nothing like y’all. They each have personalities, but all but two of them are more like friends on extended visitations than children. I have Ja-Honnie, he’s a Nuclear Fish; Ja-hamie, another Nuclear Fish; Ja-Heffie, NukeFish again; and the fourth of the Nuke Fish, Ja-Himmie. Also Gymyny T. Morboggle IV, a male ladybug in a top hat and a dapper vest. Spats, natch! Then there’s Kirby, whom I’ve known since I was just a wee little premature baby in an incubator – a big brown bear with a cloth body (no fur) and a nose that’s been darned five times and damned twice and a half. And Bun-Bun, who used to be grey and fuzzy but has been loved so much that he’s now grey and nappy.
Did I mention he disapears into the bathroom for about forty five minutes with my copy of The Exorcist, or the Shining, or something else equally inapprorpiate for a young bear, during which moans and scratching sounds are heard? Then I’ll get my book back and it will be covered in a sticky substance, that I think might be honey (bears are fond of that), OR…something else. And he’s always trying to hug (or is that hump?) Alex, the small bunny.
Fairy Princess Kitty–I am tossing in a vote for Rocky. It not only brings to mind that funky little Beatles tune, but it is what we named an orphaned baby raccoon that we got when I was in jr. high school. If you think stuffed ones are cool, you ought to try sleeping with the real thing. We used to have a trampoline in our back yard that I would sometimes sleep on in the summer (watch for shooting stars, and all that). Four cats and a 'coon in the sleeping bag with me. I learned two things about sleeping with raccoons from this part of my life: 1) They purr (yes, so did the cats; but 'coons can do it, too), and 2) They love to stick their noses in your ear just as you are dozing off, and their noses are cold.
It was purely platonic, trust me. We were just friends. Seriously, though; they are one of the most fascinating, fun animals to have around. We actually had a few over the years (lived out in the country, moms would get run over and orphan the cubs), and while the males can get dangerously large and aggressive (and thus don’t stay fun a long time), the one female that we had (the above mentioned Rocky) was ever the sweetheart. She never got really big, and while she would get wound up and snarl and chew and wrestle, thirty seconds later she’d be asleep in your lap. She actually stuck around for a few years and had a couple litters in a tree in our back yard. The young ones never got tame, but even with kids Rocky was always a major cuddlebug with us. We used to drive her nuts by giving her ice cubes (which she loved). Coons do of course wash their food, and when the ice would melt in the water she’d get frantic hunting for it. Ah, the farm life…