When I was wee I had a couple of inanimate friends which were very dear to me. I had a Winnie the Pooh blanket which my mom named Mr. Feelies. It was a name I kept for it. The blanket (blankey, if you will) was very soft and I like to rub it between my fingers. There is a tear in it that I used to stick my head through, so the rest of the blanket turned into a cape. It was on occaisions like these that I would turn over the coffee table and pretend it was some sort of flying device fit for a superhero. My Mom was opposed to my putting my head through the hole, as it caused the blanket to rip. She explained that eventually the blanket would fall apart. The thought of not having Mr. Feelies broke my little heart, so I usually tied the corners around my neck. I'd always be extremely worried for it when Mom had to make repairs on it. I now have it tacked up on the wall in my room at home.
I also had a Pound Puppy stuffed dog. I named it, aptly, Pound Puppy. I took Pound Puppy everywhere. He was brown and soft and doubled as a pillow on long car rides. He had big, round eyes that were strangely comforting. I left him at my grandmother's house once and checked the mail with Mom every day until he arrived in a big white box.
Then there was my imaginary friend, Mouse. Mouse was a mouse, as the more astute readers may have guessed. He went with me a lot of places, too. Then we lost touch. Last I heard he went to Hawaii with Patrick and didn't come back. Hawaii is a good place for Mouse, I think. Its nice and warm, so he won't have to worry about dying cold and lonely in the snow. There are also plenty of Luaus for him to raid should the food supply run low. I hope he can grow old happily there.