this, my friends, is Snowy. placed atop his perch on my bookcase. you know i don't capitalize anything on this blog, from john to hawkeye, so you can just pause for a moment and take in the fact that i capitalize Snowy. he deserves that kind of respect.
like myself, Snowy is 29 years old. i'm not sure what the human to stuffed animal years conversion is, but he's definitely more than 29 in stuffed animal years. because here's what we looked like as wee babes.
(can we talk about just how early i perfected my 'ugh. peasants.' face?)
Snowy is well-loved. as you can see, all the gloss on his eyes rubbed off, all the white scratched. the leather that once covered the nose is long gone. his fur is missing in quite a few spots, you can't read his tag, and there might even be a hole or two (that will never been sewn, because how would you like a needle stuck in your neck?!) he's not exactly white any more nor is he quite the regal fluffy bear he was in his youth.
Snowy was a gift from my dad when i was born. he even bought two, in case something happened to the first one, and junior still resides at my parent's house, in pristine condition. and despite many things having happened to Snowy over the years, he's always made it back safely by my side. disney world was especially rough on Snowy. apparently he fell out of the stroller and it was miles away before my mom noticed. but mom retraced her steps and found my ever faithful bear, which someone had placed to the side. the next day, goofy tried to run off with Snowy at character breakfast, and i screamed a bloody murder scream that was probably heard all the way back here in illinois. i still hate goofy with a passion. and character breakfast, for that matter.
Snowy has been everywhere. florida, las vegas, niagra falls, west virginia, kentucky, wisconsin, germany, india. he's been to arlington race track, harvard, the state fair, the kentucky derby, the super bowl, disney world. he's been in a bar, a tent, a sorority house, a dorm, a hotel, a movie theater, a courthouse, a frat house, a bank, a car wash, a diner. he's seen pool parties, dance recitals, birthdays, christmases, graduations. he's been chewed on by dogs who are no longer with us. he's endured every fad toy from american girl dolls to pound puppies to polly pockets and outlived them all. he's gone from kindergarten to college, and he's slept in my bed every night until i was 19 and only because i'm afraid he's too delicate now.
he's the single thing i'd never fail to save in a fire. Snowy cannot be replaced. is that an irrational attachment to something? maybe. but Snowy is hands down the most faithful and constant presence in my life. he'll be on his perch forever. until, you know, he's buried with me.