A Girl's Best Friend

On this lovely Friday night I am surfing the internet in hopes of finding a bear clinic for my loved-too-hard longtime companion, Fluffy.

Fluffy has been around for many years. About 15 or so. I bought him on a family vacation to Alexandria Bay, NY. We took a boat trip to Boldt Castle, which really, is one of the only attractions there, and in the gift shop I, a 5 year old girl, stumbled across a mass of peach fur on the shelf. He was the only one left and I knew then and there it was destiny for us to be together. My dad bought the story until he looked at the price tag. He told me to put it down and come on, to catch the boat.

I, being the stubborn person I am, threw a fit in the middle of the souvenir store. I would not get on that boat without my new friend. There was no way I was having that. He was so cute and he was all alone. He was $65.

Needless to say, I won the battle. My dad forfeited when he saw the boat getting ready to leave. I told the clerks no bag was necessary, grabbed my new honey and ran to the docks.

On the boat, we sat around the tables on the lower level, decided what to name my new friend. His gender was unidentifiable, as was his species. Could be a bear, could be a dog, no one knew. So I figured there, he was a he, and he was a dog. I contemplated the names Fuzzy (already had one named that) and Furry, but chose the one my brother came up with. It was unoriginal but fitting. Fluffy. He would be called Fluffy. (Which, by the way, is short for Flufferton. But don't let him hear you call him that. He hates it.)

We became best friends. He has his own spot on my bed and a special place (tears up) in my heart.

Back to the Bear Clinic business...

Fluffy has a little fur line recession, if you will. He has areas that were once covered in tufts and tufts of bright peach fur that are now dirty splotches of once-white netting. The fur he does have left is matted and mangy, after being thrown into the washer and dryer on many occasions. He has a few battle wounds, one being a scar on his tummy from when my brother ripped him when I was younger. *sniff* Still so treacherous to think about. He's also beginning to have a funky odor. I think its mold in his stuffing or something. Poor baby.

I don't have any pictures of him online, but if I scan any soon I will post them. He brings me such joy, as well as my family. He's like the Mother Theresa of teddy bears.

I am so lucky to have such a great love and companion in my life. He is always there for me and never judges me. He's the perfect friend.