Things: Graf #5

I have beat up beanie baby that I bought with my own money from Mr. Paperback in Dover-Foxcroft when I was four or five. I couldn’t pronounce the name on tag so I called him Ruffles instead of Rufus, which was the name on the tag. He was fluffy and chocolate brown and cream colored when I first bought him. Now his fur is short and scratchy and his colors have faded to brown and dirty grayish cream. I used to carry him around with me everywhere, from home to school and on field trips. I lost him at school once when I was in elementary school. My mom would drop my sister off act school then drive across the street to the back entrance of my school and drop me off. When I got out of the car he must have fallen out of my bag because when I went to get him out later that day he wasn’t in there. I slept with him every night and then would bring him downstairs with me when I woke up, so I figured that I left him on the counter or in my bed. When I got home that night I looked all over the house for him and couldn’t find him anywhere. My mom had bought another beanie baby, the same one, shortly after I bought Ruffles when she saw how attached I was to him. She gave the new one to me and I immediately hated it, it didn’t look anything like Ruffles. I was devastated and cried every night for almost a week. The following Monday after my Mom had dropped me off at school she found Ruffles half buried in snow on the side of the road. She took him home, washed and dried him, and had him sitting out for me when I got home.

Another time when I was looking for him in the morning before school I found him underneath the futon in our living room. He had been attacked by mice in the night when I had accidentally left him downstairs over night. I screamed out like someone had attacked me and picked up as much of him as I could. I ran into the bathroom where my Mom was taking a shower and started crying. My mom put him up on the counter and sprayed disinfecting spray on him, then sewed him back together when she got him from work that night.

He’s battered and matted, his colors have faded and he’s deformed, but he’s my most prized possession. He’s the one thing that I would have to save if my house was on fire. I’ve always known right where he is, and I have to take him with me whenever I go on long trips away from home. He’s my ‘safety blanket’ and I always have to have him with me whenever I’m really upset.