Her ears didn't droop then, her eyes were not scratched and yellow. She was bright and clean that day, not dark and dirty. Both feet were sewn up right, there was no mustard, no sap. All I got was a generic Babs Bunny
TM stuffed animal. It is the grey that makes her mine. The wear and tear of being pulled around by the ears everywhere I went. Of being hugged and taken on trips for years after I got "too old" to take her with me everywhere. Every flaw, every change, from that morning onward, makes her my Babs. I may not have had you with me for the first 7 years, but I will take you to the grave.
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fuzzybluemonkeys
