I was walking back from the pub tonight and to my surprise there was an abandoned tweety on the pavement. So I started to think about his life.
I imagined he was a much loved birthday present that took pride of place on the bed. At night time he was snuggled in to and was the keeper of stories, secrets, hopes and kiddy dreams. He provided comfort and safety with his warm furry body and was a much loved bed buddy, even the cat liked snuggling up to him. Then as the owner got older and taller there wasn’t enough room in the bed so he was moved down to the floor. There he sits, with soft toys and eventually stray articles of dirty washing thrown on top of him. In the end there is a pile and only his head is visible. Years pass and dust collects. Tweety’s days are numbered. This little birdy is on soft toy death row. Finally he is deemed a dust and germ health hazard and is unceremoniously booted out onto the pavement, where he now lays, looking beseechingly at passersby hoping for a new home.
Sorry tweety, I’m germ phobic and outgrew soft toys some time ago. I hope you find a new home, best of luck my dirty little furry friend!