Teddy

If you have ever had the misfortune of getting your nose too near your foot as it comes out of a wet boot then you’ll know the smell I mean. That’s how Teddy smells; like he got dropped in a puddle and didn’t dry out properly. He isn’t actually aware of the smell anymore but he remembers he was dropped, and he resents it. He is a teddy bear you see and he expects love and attention but he has been forgotten about, replaced with newer toys and he resents that too.

His joints are stiff and his paunch so padded that he has to tilt backwards on his hips to stay standing on his long legs, if he didn’t lean he would fall forwards on his paws and he would hate to feel humiliated.

The threads have come loose from the buttons of his crossed-leather eyes and one of them has slipped slightly so that it rests on his muzzle and rolls whilst he grumbles. When he turns his back on you, which is often now, you can see the woollen stuffing poking out of the stitched seams that run down his back. Poor neglected Teddy, he doesn’t know how worn he looks; he is too proud to ask for repairs and all he wants is to be restored to your affections.