Mr. Woof Woof

I was at a work conference listening to a speaker talk about “storytelling.”  She said a woman purchased a toy horse for her daughter for $1.  When she went to sell it on E-bay many years later, she crafted a story to go with her listing.   Her daughter was now off to college and she came across the horse while cleaning out her room. She remembered how her daughter would play with the horse every day and how her daughter used to sit in the front bay window, trooping the horse along the windowsill waiting for her mother to get home.   She sold the horse for $104 because the story was so powerful.   

Of course, this story was fabricated to make a profit, but it did remind me of Connor (because what doesn’t anymore).  When Connor was 9 months old, we were visiting Hilton Head, SC.  We went to the outlet malls and there was a store going out of business. The shelves were somewhat baren, but at the very back of the store there was a shelf with random items on it.  Connor leaned over and picked up this little stuffed dog.  He hugged it tightly and would not let it go.  It cost $5 and was an easy win for a parent. 

The dog was named Mr. Woof Woof, or Woof, for short.  Connor took that dog everywhere with him.  And heaven forbid we forget to bring it.  If we did, we’d have to turn around and go get him.  Connor’s attachment to that dog lasted longer than it probably should have, but as with anyone who grows up, he outgrew it.  I took Woof and put him away thinking one day I’d give it to Connor’s first-born child.   Well, we can add that to the long list of things I will never get to do or experience. It makes my heart hurt so bad.

Woof was well loved. His eyes are now scratched and he’s been washed so many times he’s a little lumpy.  There is no price tag I could ever put on Woof.  He is invaluable to me.   He now sits on the bookshelf proudly next to his owner’s picture serving as a constant reminder to me that life is precious, short and priceless.   ∞