Month: May 2015

Babby.  The name says it all.  A baby so beloved you call it Babby.  I was so cute, thick off white cropped fur, with floppy ears. I was not one of those plush real life size doggies. No, I was flat enough to fit perfectly in a puppy’s mouth in order to be carried from destination to destination. Sometimes I would be stranded for hours, days until Momma realized and set up a search party of one to find me.

No, I did not come from a $ Store. Still, I was cloned in a pet toy factory, continents away, that mass produces all things plush by engineers who figure out scientifically and with some degree of accuracy, the numbers of bites, chews and degree of grooming a pet toy can take in a dog’s lifetime.  But the manufacturing plant did not name me or send me to my Forever Home.  It just put a price on my head, loaded me on a cargo boat, and sold me to the highest bidder, a well-known department store pet section.

Now we also needed Four Footed Intervention to find me my Forever Home That was where Our Bonnie (Momma) came in play.  When she and Daddy were watching television and an ad would pop up that featured a Yorkshire Terrier, Daddy would get unnaturally quiet.  Momma knew what that meant and she stealthily went about making Daddy’s dream a reality, much to Wonder Boy’s horror.  Having Teddy, the American Eskimo (definitely Momma’s dog) was enough punishment for Wonder Boy’s sensitive ears but a Yappy Yorkie? Are you kidding?

A Yorkie needs nutritious food, bones to chew, a cage to sleep in  and toys to play with.  Now Momma always knew what she was looking for. That made it easy.  She bought me and Miss Piggy for Daddy’s Yorkie, Zanny to wile away the hours with.

Because Miss  Piggy was made of robust pink rubber with a painted on smile and a  cute little tail, she got the lion’s share of the chewing and slobbering.  I got carried from way station to way station, shook vigorously along the way, till I swear I had the Shaken Baby Syndrome.  It was obvious Zanny, the Yorkie  had a lot to teach me. I always wondered if that was how her Momma treated her.

Then, well if you know the Tigger story…. Zanny was gone, gone, gone and play time, like the tune on a wind down music box, ended.  Years passed and we waited, not knowing if life, as we knew it, would ever be re-invented.

One day, one sweet day, we heard a little ruff which was trying valiantly to sound large and commanding.  Then there were little growls and sighs, an honest bark.  It was Game On.  Only Jakita, well, she was made to mother.  She has an inborn sense of responsibility and righteousness. We are no longer allowed outside. Sometimes we are carried to the shed room but are left to wait there until she returns and brings us back in to her doggie pillow.  Still, she will give us a mean shake every now and then.  Makes me think, it wasn’t Zanny, all dogs have that method of control.  Maybe we need it, who knows.

I notice  both Miss Piggy and my ears are a little chewed but the engineers did okay since at least they are still attached. Maybe we should add some sparkly diamond earrings to our ear lobes to cover the damage. Good news – we are still around, offering comfort and fun after fourteen years, hanging out with the Incredibly Wide Eyed Stuffed Monkey, Ruby Tutu, with her fixed glassy  stare, who is a fountain of wisdom and serenity .

We are not going anywhere anytime soon. Miss Piggy and I, we are the Lucky Ones! We found our Forever Home.

And if it ain’t, ya don’t fix it…Hear?????

So just like an evangelistic Born–Again–Christian, the Tiger, was born to a new life the day Senorita Jakita spied him on Momma’s bookshelf,  on top of the harvest horn that was brimming full of fall silk flowers. The minute Jakita clapped her eyes on him, she recognized that she and the Tigger were sugar and spice, (and all things nice), salt and pepper, meant to be.  Now, all Jakita had to do was sit her little wriggling puppy body in front of the bookshelf and whimper mournfully, until Momma came over and asked her what she wanted.

Well, that was a challenge because Momma was just not picking up on the radar that day (and dare we say, many days).  Maybe Momma had lots to do or had dialed in the wrong channel but after a while Momma told Jakita she had no idea what she wanted and continued to run here and do this, then run here and do that.  Jakita laid on the floor, in front of the bookshelf, head between her paws and napped.  Momma would be back.  She always came back.

Now the Tigger felt twinges of hope. From what he knew about Jakita, she would never give in till ‘mission accomplished‘. Tigger suspected Momma would be curious enough to re-tackle the puzzle after she ate some lunch and her blood sugar rose, at which point, hopefully her brain would kick in.  Ah, a Tigger can have his dreams. Yet, pretty much that is how Tigger got off the shelf and in to action.

Momma once again zipped in the room.  Since Jakita was about ten weeks old, schedules were adhered to rigidly….Don’t blame Momma.  She can not help herself.  She is a Virgo. It was puppy eating time, then puppy go outside time.  Momma scooped up Jakita and Bingo, Bango, Bungo, she got it. As Momma rose she saw Tigger’s glass eyes begging, ‘Me, take me.’  Of course, Jakita wanted to play with him.  After all, her basket of toys was already overflowing, one more would not hurt. (LOL) Thus began the Tigger’s ‘Born–Again’ life.

Personality wise, Jakita is day and night from Zanny.  Jakita has this ingrown sense of responsibility to protect All Creatures, Great and Small.  Not so much our Zanny, who would dump the Tigger anywhere. It would never cross her mind that if you came outside with Tigger, you went back inside with Tigger.  She would strand him under the bushes, where no one could see him except the raccoons who would come over to check if it was one of their kit. And God Bless the squirrels who would leave Tigger a chestnut from the neighbor’s tree so he would not be hungry as well as afraid, in the dark.  And God Bless Momma, who would come outside and poke around under the bushes with a flashlight, to find Tigger and bring him inside.

Now the Tigger has the life of which he dreamed about, all those years as he languished on top of the book shelf. Okay, full disclosure, it seems the Tigger still need a good shaking every once in a while, but Jakita never chews him and he is part of the Story Telling Gang which includes Jakita and Gen all of the time, Charlie, some of the time, the Incredibly Wide Eyed Monkey Ruby and oh,  sometimes Little Cream Colored Floppy Eared Babby.  They congregate on Momma’s bed and listen as the stories unfold.

Also, on top of Momma’s Armoire there are all kinds of plush toys that belonged to Wonder Boy when he was a child.  They too have stories  they also are anxious to share (no doubt). You can see it in their glassy-eyed stares.  Their day is coming…soon…..because we believe:

‘Every stuffed toy must have his day….Every stuffed toy must have his say….’ At least that’s what Stonewall Jackson said…or something like that……