I was on a walk this morning with our puppy Mia when I discovered that her beloved Blue Cow – who she insists on bringing on every jaunt – had fallen from my pocket. Her stuffed toy gets stowed there when she drops it the minute there’s a squirrel sighting. She usually wants it again once we’re on our way home.
This morning, we retraced our steps to find Blue Cow. When Mia saw it lying beside the path, she ran to retrieve it. She walked the remaining five blocks home with it clutched in her mouth, no longer trusting her treasure to my care.
It reminded me of the many times we retraced steps to find a little stuffed doll that has been my daughters’ most cherished possession since my husband and I gave it to her on her first birthday.
Dolly, who was never christened with a more sophisticated name, has been a constant in our lives for the past 11 years. She has been cuddled, dropped, photographed, lost and shipped back, washed, dried and re-sewn any number of times. She has been on play dates, sleepovers, car and camping trips, stroller, airplane and boat rides …she’s one well-traveled toy.
We’re now on our third iteration of Dolly, the first two having been so well-loved, that I tried to replace them with a new Dolly Number Three. This last one turned out to be an Imposter. She didn’t “feel the same” as the the prior two whose velveteen has been worn thin by love.
In the beginning, Dolly was a constant companion, never leaving my daughter’s side except for nursery school. Eventually, Dolly transformed into a nighttime-only companion. Until recently, Dolly slept under my daughter’s chin, to be caressed, mushed and fondled throughout the night, even as my daughter slept soundly. My husband often teased – never in a critical way – about having to pack Dolly off to college with our daughter.
Lately, I’ve seen Dolly and her almost-identical sisters relegated to the foot of my daughter’s bed, anchored in place only by the foot board. Each of these steps attests to my little girl’s ever-increasing self-confidence. She no longer needs the reassurance Dolly once gave her.
As a parent, I am so proud of how far she has come… with her growing courage, burgeoning creativity, ripening sense of humor and blossoming personality that only comes with maturation. She’s growing up…growing independent…. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Aaah, Cycles of Life…. So now, it appears, I have entered my Blue Cow Period. It doesn’t mean I won’t still miss those sweet and poignant Dolly Years.
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Out on a Limb 
Here, its Pinky, the cheap valentines day cat given to Maeby by her Nana last year. He looks atrocious…more grey than pink these days despite washing, but she loves him. Tony actually spoke to the company who made Pinky and they were so kind to send out three spares just in case we ever needed them, but I know should the original ever disappear, these new Pinkies will not pass muster to take his place.
Isn’t it funny how kids (and pets!) get so attached to one toy? For me, it was a doll named Polly whose body was made out of rubber. I was just devastated when Polly’s fingers began to disintegrate and all the stuffing began to come out. Next it was my “Susie” doll whose head came off – another catastrophe! I laugh about it now, but then, it was no laughing matter!