One Xmas, I received a dog-shaped stuffed pillow. A neighbor being nice to the really young kid next door. Mass- produced, I’m sure it wasn’t very expensive.
I named him Fluffers and took him everywhere with me. He came to bed with me every night, went with me on all family trips. I talked to him all the time.
(I was young.)
I even promised Fluffers that I would never stop loving him and that when I died, he’d be buried with me.
(I wasn’t so young that death was foreign to me.)
Eventually, I outgrew Fluffers, but when my mom found him in a box and said, “Do you want it? If not, I’m giving it away,” I felt a pang of guilt about that childhood promise and took him.
He’s currently on a shelf in the shed in the backyard. No doubt worried about my age and the dark, cramped future awaiting him.