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F ³: If You See One


 

You know what they say. If you see one ant, there are bound to be more nearby. But ants are not my problem. It’s something more insidious.

They creep up on you. They enter your house one at a time, over a period of years. They seem harmless. And then, one day… …you find that have been overrun. 



I hesitate to use the word infestation in this case. It feels so dirty, somehow. 

Some people collect silver, china, sports memorabilia, antiques, even autographs. They are things. Inanimate objects. The problem with stuffed plush animals is that first they are cute, then they have names, then personalities. Before you know it they have become members of your family.

On that fateful day when you discover that you have far too many you realize that you are contemplating disposing of things that are not unwanted trash but - - dare I say it - - close personal friends. Sometimes old friends. Yes, some are more like passing aquaintances, but, still. 

If you are tenderhearted, imaginative, and retain a sense of play from your childhood, do NOT let more than one of these creatures into your life. Just don’t.

I wrote a few years ago about a wonderful initiative in the UK called Loved Before. They are still going strong, “saving the world, one teddy at a time.” 

Dream Jobs, March 18th, 2022

They are located in Bedfordshire in England. There is no United States equivalent as far as I know.

Rehoming stuffies in our area is difficult. Because of sanitary concerns places like Goodwill no longer take them.  

  • If they are in perfect, like-new condition you may be able to rehome them through your Buy Nothing group. 
  • I’ve heard through the grapevine that there’s a bin located at Waterloo Elementary School where they can be dropped off to be recycled. 
  • Another friend suggested they might be donated to the animal shelter. 
  • For 121.00 you can purchase a small Zero Waste Box from Terracycle specifically for the collection and recycling of stuffed plush creatures. 

Years ago my oldest child cleaned out the bedroom where she had spent her teen years.  She ended up with a large bag of stuffed animals that she knew were ready for the trash. She didn’t seem to have the kind of angst about it that I would’ve had. I admired her resolve.

Then, before she closed the bag and brought it downstairs, I heard her say, “I’m sorry.” She wasn’t talking to me.

The truth is that she probably doesn’t even remember now what was in that bag or suffer any residual pain over that loss. And I could do that too, if only I were brave enough to do it. 

Somehow they must know this. Their greatest defense is to remain indispensably adorable. 




Be safe. Don’t let them into your home or your heart. It begins so delightfully and ends so badly.



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