The Tale of Fuzzy the Bear

This is Fuzzy. He is a very sweet, very soft bear. And I honestly feel like we rescued him. And he is already bringing joy to our home.

Corey and I were at Target a couple of weeks ago, looking for an embarassing donut pillow for me to sit on at work and in the car to help with my coccyx pain (we didn't find one, of course). Anyway, we were passing through a main thoroughfare in order to head over to the Halloween department (yay!). We came upon two carts, stacked with random goods that were blocking off the majority of the aisle. The mishmash of items looked like things that had been collected at the front, either through returns or people deciding at the check out that they didn't want something.

As we passed, I noticed our furry fuzzy friend and gave him a pat on the head. After that, SOMEONE (rhymes with Borey Branstrand) came along and knocked him down into the cart. I got mad at Corey about it. That poor bear! And even though we had already walked quite a few feet further, I had a sudden crisis of conscience and turned around. I went back and rescued Fuzzy.

He was on sale for $4.00. His box read that he is newborn friendly. And he has very kind, soulful eyes.

You may think I'm crazy. But this is an inherited problem. My parents always brought stuffed animals to life for us. They would go around and look for the stuffed animal that had the kindest face out of all of the many bears, or elephants, or giraffes. They would make them talk and play to amuse us when we were little. My sister and I always feel a connection to stuffed animals.

We also read the Velveteen Rabbit as children, and that had a great effect on me for the rest of my life.
Anyway, I wanted this bear to have a happy life in a fun home with a baby and two cats and two adults that love him. To live a life unattached from the box he came in.
And I know this sounds silly, but I swear he looks happier since he came into our home. I can't wait for Baby Granstrand to meet him!