If you look at her, you’ll just see an old, dirty stuffed animal whose fur won’t lay the right way. But when I look at her, I see the stuffed animal that I could never live without. My prized possession, my best friend, and my comforter all rolled into one. When I was younger, I even considered her to be my sister. My stuffed dog, Happy, is the thing I’ll always need and I’ll always have.

When I was five, I got a build-a-bear workshop gift-card from my grandma. When I went, I picked out a stuffed dog (because I was the type of child that could be in a room full of stuffed bears, for example, and one dog, and I’d only see the dog) that looked almost exactly like my dog, Butler. At first, I was only moderately excited, but the excitement grew as I began to build my build-a-bear collection.

I got bears, frogs, cats, and even more dogs, but each one I had would be cast aside, because I always went back to Happy. No stuffed animal I ever got was as good.

Since I’ve gotten Happy, I’ve always had her in times of need. When I got bit by the dog, Happy was there. When I had a horrible third grade year (that’s a different blog post), Happy was there. Even this year, when I shut my finger in the car door (different blog post again), Happy was there. And I’m sure Happy will be there in years to come too. She’s my every-lasting best friend.

I have to admit, when I was younger, I was starting to worry about what people would think if I still had Happy with me for everything. I thought people would start to tease me and make fun of me. I’ve gotten over that. I really don’t care if you think I’m childish (if you do, thank you!) for still having a stuffed animal as my best friend.

The assignment was to write a blog post about a memory with an object or movie (physical things), and I knew right away I was going to write about happy. But now, I don’t think that’s as smart if an idea; I can’t think of one memory with Happy that would do her justice. Looking back, Happy is in almost every good memory I have, and just about every bad one.

Happy means the world to me, even as a teenager. I would be devastated if anything happened to her. It’d be like an older sibling moving away from home, or a best friend moving to a different state. I’d be missing a part of my childhood-a part of my life. Nothing can ever break the bond between Happy and I, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.