Thursday, 18-Apr-2024


I am a sentimental creature, by nature.

That’s a phrase I’ve been saying a lot, recently, and one that you’ll see repeated in a few upcoming posts. It’s true, though, and has been made exceptionally apparent while I’ve been packing and divesting of my various possessions.

Two of which haven’t fallen into any acceptable category thus far – I can’t bring them with me, I can’t sell them, and I can’t store them.

Why can’t I? Well… they’re stuffed animals. Two specifically:
– Mini Ollie is a small black dog that Sarah and I would bring with us on trips when Ollie herself couldn’t come along.
– Micro Ollie is a tiny black dog that I gifted to my Grandma, since she’d heard so much about the full-size version of Ollie… and then, when Sarah and I broke up, my Grandma sent me micro-Ollie back to help me sustain through the loss of real Ollie.

I couldn’t sell them, obviously. Nor could I ever throw them out. Bringing them along to Ireland was equally out of the question, since it really is time for me to cut ties and let myself build a new life, complete and whole.

That left storing… and I couldn’t bring myself to consign them to the long dark of a storage box.

So, no options, right?

Wrong – I have friends. Friends who like stuffed animals, who I know will keep them safe and loved. Thus – a gift basket with googly eyes, and two excited puppies heading to their new loving homes.