The Beaver

My husband's grandparents are elderly and all of them are still alive. That's a strange thing for me because most of mine are not. He's blessed in ways he doesn't even understand. It's like the line from the Joni Mitchell song, "You don't know what you've got till it's gone..." I know what I had because it's mostly gone.

That being said, his grandparents are not in perfect health and memory issues are starting to become a problem. Last April, we had an egg hunt with one side of his family and his grandparents (the oldest, least healthy set) decided to go shopping for all their great-grandchildren. There was an odd assortment of balloons, 14 foot long jump ropes, cheap Easter baskets, and stuffed animals. Stuffed animals are fairly common around Easter but the grandparents had apparently wandered off the Easter aisle at some point during their shopping excursion and found animal toys that they mistook for stuffed animals for children. I realized it quickly when a few of the adults were assigned the task of distributing the bags of randomness. So, my children ended up with two pet toys. I'm ashamed to admit that I don't know the exact location of the strange squeaking black and white skunk-like blanket toy M was given, but I believe it may still be in the trunk of my car. My other girls ended up with a beaver that also squeaks when pressed on the stomach. This is the beaver toy.

As strange as this may be, the toy actually helps with a game L made up a few weeks before receiving the beaver. She calls the game "Beaver Dam." It involves her and sometimes A hiding in a corner or tight spot, barricading themselves in, and periodically yelling, "I see a beaver. Hide!" or something along those lines.

Well, what do you know? The beaver doesn't have to be imaginary anymore and he squeaks! In a pinch, he also wears a doll dress and gets to play with the other dolls in their room. What could have been a sad, chewed upon life in a dog's mouth has turned into a warm, cozy life as a beloved toy. Weird how things work out sometimes, isn't it?