Mark Nixon's book Much Loved, in which he pays photographic tribute to cherished childhood bears, bunnies, and other cuddlies, inspired me to dig up my dear Ted. He had been packed away for years. In fact, it took me an hour to find which box.
He's threadbare, missing his right eye, and his schnozzle is tooth-marked. I won't tell you exactly how old he is. Let's just say he's not quite sixty. I wasn't sure he would remember me, since I've changed, too. But he knew me right away, and it made me cry.
His back is stitched from the time I performed exploratory surgery. When he was new, he made a noise when rocked back and forth. I was concerned when Ted fell silent. After cutting him open, I found a noise maker can embedded in his belly. The moan was not a bear sound after all. He had been mooing like a cow!
Ted is now happily sitting in the chair beside my desk. I look in his wise eye when I need encouragement. He knew I wouldn't stay away forever...and he has forgiven me for the box thing.
