The Blue Dog

During a conversation with my brother last night, he revealed that my nephew, who is 12, sleeps with Blue.

Blue is a stuffed dog that belonged to me. I slept with Blue too. Then my brother confiscated Blue and slept with him.

The dog is about a foot long, blue in color (hence the name), with a pink tongue hanging out. It's eyes are sewn on and it has little black ears.

Blue escaped a fire that burned down my parents house, but he smelled very badly indeed after that. A friend of mine who sewed took Blue home with her while I was the in hospital having a hysterectomy in 1992.

Not long after I returned home, I received Blue, washed, repaired, and restuffed, in pristine condition. He had a place of honor at the foot of the bed.

When my mother died in 2000, the family was severed and people weren't speaking to one another. Sometime later, about two years, I think, I managed to return to better relations with my brother. At that time, I handed Blue over to my nephew. I explained to him that his grandmother bought the dog for me, that his father slept with it, and that I was now handing it over to him.

It is sweet that he sleeps with it. My brother brought it up because my 5-year old niece attempted to confiscate the dog, setting up howls of protest from the older nephew. That little stuffed dog must surely be like the Velveteen Rabbit, loved so much that it is nearly real.