This is all true.
When I was young, I got a stuffed rabbit from a relative. For Christmas, I think, but I was too young to remember exactly when. I named it Bunny, since children have a very straightforward way of naming things.
It started out pink, but eventually was just pink-ish, since I carried it around everywhere. Through a thousand hugs and a thousand nights being gripped by a young kid as he slept, the pink all left, leaving only the –ish and Bunny has been –ish colored ever since.
Some animals come with a smile permanently pasted on their face. I have this little black bear that my sister gave me called Andre. He looks like he’s scowling if you see him straight on, but if you tip him up a little, you can see that he’s really grinning. Bunny, however, doesn’t have a smile. He may have at one time, but most of his mouth got worn off. Now it is more a look of longsuffering. He looks at you with his big eyes and small, worn out mouth, not smiling exactly, but always being there for you.
Those aren’t his original eyes, by the way. I chewed off his plastic eyes when I was young, so my mom sewed on new ones. I’m not sure how many sets he’s had, actually. I think he might have that expression for a reason.
Bunny also wears a little shirt made out of an old sock. It’s got little holes for his stubby arms but since it’s a sock, it’s always rolling up, revealing his belly. I spend half my childhood rolling it down and straightening it out. But, like that one cowlick in the back which is impervious to hairspray, gel, curses, and tearful invocations, it only takes a minute each time for that shirt to pop back up.
Bunny’s most distinctive feature is his neck. Originally, he had a normal neck, but the neck is the perfect place for a young child to hug a stuffed animal, and eventually his neck got all thin and stretched out, so it wouldn’t support his head any longer. He spends his days with his head permanently flopped over at a 30-degree angle, a longsuffering look on his –ish colored face.
You might think that Bunny has had a pretty rough life, and on some levels, you might be right, but he’s also had a pretty charmed life. After all, he has two lucky rabbit’s feet. I used to bring Bunny everywhere and we used to travel thousands of miles every summer to go visit family. Several times I left Bunny at hotels and relatives’ houses, but he always got shipped back to me, much to my relief.
Somewhere along the way, I got a stuffed dog named Crackerberry, which was good because that gave Bunny a friend. He was much more robust than Bunny and since he missed the terrors of toddlerdom that Bunny endured, Crackerberry has stood up much better over time. I used to sleep with the two of them pushed together, which was pretty much all that saved Bunny from totally disintegrating over the years.
For the last few decades, Bunny and Crackerberry have enjoyed a quiet retirement together at my parents’ house. Who knows if another generation will eventually play with them and love them, although Bunny might have gotten all the love he can handle for one lifetime and should probably sit the next generation out. Sometimes I think they might be lonely and sometimes I even wish I were young again and back in my little attic room with the two of them. But that’s life, and at least they have each other.