Help My Beagle - My Plea to Ganz

To whom it may concern;


I need to tell you a little story. This is a tragicly sad story, one without a happy ending (YET). See, I am a single mother that continuously showers her daughters with little stuffed animals. Almost always they are webkinz, but before we knew of webkinz, we would just go to the store and randomly pick out a stuffed animal. During one of these random trips, we found a teddy bear, a Ganz teddy bear named Avery. He was simple, cute, brown with a little checked brown bow. He had beans in his butt andin the bottom of his limbs. He wasn't much, but to my daughter he was 'the one'. She loved little Avery till the Webkinz caught her eye, but, Avery still had a highly coveted spot on her bed.

As she got another year older, she and her sister started harrassing me, giving me "the dog talk". You know what I mean, trying to trick me by saying things like: WE will pick up the poo, WE will feed the dog, WE will walk the dog, WE will take care of it. Well, as have numerous unsuspecting parents before me, I fell for the hype. We got ourselves a dog. A Beagle named Bosco. This was no ordinary dog, he is a used dog, meaning we got him from another owner. I adore him and all his quirks. He has issues but hey, don't we all. He is a bit of a baby and needs constant reassurance but I'm good at it so we just baby eachother. One sad thing is that he was a breeders stud before. These people told us that they kept him in a kennel 90% of the time. He came out to go potty and to make some young fembeagle's day, or at least I hope he did. Anyhow, I digress, but here comes the point. Poor little Bosco had little love in his previous home and so he was a bit put off by all the lovin' we were trying to give him. He was never taught to play so when you throw him a ball he just looks at you like, 'why did that idiot do that'. He is the sweetest little big guy but you could tell that something was missing. It was just heartbreaking.

Well, one day he went into my daughter's shared room and started giving their stack of stuffed animals the 'hairy eye'. I was kind of creeped out because he was unreceptive to all of my encouraging words trying to break his concentration and talk him into exiting the room. Finally he walked over to sweet little Avery and gently picked him up. Of course I immediately took the bear out of his mouth and returned it to the never-ending stack, but he just walked back over and picked it back up.

After talking with my daughters, we decided to let Bosco have Avery. It was a match made in puppy heaven. Every night he would go over and grab Avery and lay on his bed and suckle him, like a baby with a binkie. I was a little creeped out and called a veterinarian to see what the reason was for this strange need to have a furry little pacifier. He told me that Bosco was taken away from his mom before being weaned, thus the suckling for comfort. He has been loving little Avery for the last year, and is so gentle that you could not tell that it was a dog's bear.

This last January we got another wild hair and decided he needed a playmate - enter Molly, a 5 month old maniac beagle. Molly has a life mission - to destroy all dog toys in her path. We have given her as many toys as we could but each time she sees Bosco having special time with Avery she gets crazy and wants to take Avery away. She has snuck him so far about 10 times away and chewed him to oblivion. He lost an ear and she actually sucked his little cotton brains out. I pushed them back in and sewed it up so now he has had a partial labotomy and the left ear is completely missing. Bosco looks like he is depressed. He gently carries Avery over to his bed and lays him down, but he no longer feels he can suck on him. He is a sad dog. I have given him about 15 other bears and other friendly animals but he only has eyes for Avery.

I have gone to every store in the vacinity, NO MORE AVERYS. I need your help, Bosco needs your help. There are many times that we as people see suffering and unfortunately are in a position that leaves us unable to help, this however is your chance to do something, to help make this world a better place. You have the power to make my children see that kindness crosses all barriers. You and only you can make Bosco once again a happy dog. It has been said, "With great power comes great responsibility", are you ready to deny a beagle his one and only happiness, will you ever be able to walk down the street, go to the dog park, or even look at your own dog again without wondering what would have been, if only you had helped...

Well, this is how I will leave this letter:

I am contacting you as a last resort. If you have another Avery bear, I would love to be able to purchase it for my beloved little dog. I know you are a busy person and have a lot on your plate, but please, help us to bring the joy back into our little hairy boy. If you feel like you cannot help, please forward this letter on to someone who can do something. Please e-mail me back as soon as possible.

Sincerely,
Cynthia Woody

Death of a Moo Moo

So, Its been a while since I put anything on here.  I've been busy.  I need new clothes, being in a transitional phase losing weight, it has been difficult to find anything that tickles me.  Well, last week my mom and I went to Ross.  It seemed like a good idea at the time because I wasn't going for me, it was here anniversary and she was hoping to find something nice to wear out to dinner.

We shopped from one side of the store to the other.  My kids had a blast trying on dresses and all kinds of funky little outfits so it was a fun day.  We were getting ready to head up to the cashier but stopped to look at the pajama section.  There was a large "housedress" in my size, a very large one size fits all. That was just appealing in itself.  Puzzling, yet appealing! I mean OMG - could it be true? Is there honestly a size that fits all? Well thats what the label said and who am i to argue with the fashion GODs. So, I moved in a little closer. I did the "across the bust" stretch, it passed the test. I did the around the tummy pull, it passed the test. I held it up and it made it all the way down, it was long enough also. Man oh man, it was my day to shine. It is so hard to find clothes when you are plus sized. Most of the stores seem to have the idea that every fat girl wants to look like a 65 year old woman. I mean c'mon now, we're fat, not dead.  Well, this 'housedress' was colorful, bright, and silky. As most big girls do, I usually douse myself in all black and hope I blend in. NOT TODAY SAM! Today was my day. Finally I found something bright and beautiful that would be comfortable, stylish, and me. I was excited.

Well, don't worry, I soon was violently shaken back into reality.  My mom has this habit that once you have new clothes, she wants to see them on you. Not in a minute, not in five minutes, but NOW. I am a slow clothes changer. Anyone plus sized knows about the knee-stretch for shirts, the standing on the hem of your pants and pull to elongate them. Well, we all go through it, we just don't all talk about it. So, I went in to the bathroom to try it on. Oh, the silk felt like heaven sliding over my body. Easing into a silk cocoon of love and comfort! Thats the best description until it hit my butt. Oh sweet Mary, my butt was the shining proof that one size does NOT fit all. Not only does it not fit, but it made me look like I was the hottest thing on the Hillshire Farms Fall Menu. I was tucked into that silky tube like a summer sausage and not quite as pretty. Seriously folks, it took me about 15 minutes to get the courage to walk out the bathroom door to show my mom. I only came out because she was telling me that it wasn't that bad, it's okay, sometimes you need to lose a couple pounds and it'll fit better. No mom, not this time. I would have to lose half of Rhode Island to fit in this 'badboy'. We chuckled a little, then talked about how nowadays the clothesmakers are cutting the sizes smaller. (another sign of denial) The main trouble came when it was time to peel the house dress off. It was then that I moved infront of a full-length mirror. The image burned itself into my retinas. I was stuffed into that MooMoo like a Thanksgiving turkey. For a long time I believed that MooMoo was a silly name for an item of clothing but now that I have actually been in one, I know the truth. Any item of clothing that is named after a barnyard animal is not something a woman should wear. Despite the allure of the comfort they offer, think of it as putting on an udder, because you will look like a COW! I squeezed out of the dress and hid it from myself. It is still up on a shelf in my closet. When I go in there to get coats or shoes I can hear a faint moooomooooo coming from above. How creepy! It took some time but I have now gotten over it! But let this serve as a warning for anyone else that falls for that enticing little silky number called a Moo Moo. It's evil in disguise. No person will EVER look good in a tablecloth, tent or tarp, aka the MOOMOO its time to retire it, its time to say NO, NO ONE SIZE FITS ALL.