A Second Helping

“Why do people keep stuffed toys around?” I asked the guerrilla.

It was the spider monkey that answered from the closet, as he jumped down and scrambled over to join us.  “They keep us around, because we can be everything they want.  We can talk, and play, all in their imagination, just like we’re doing in yours, but we don’t climb on and off things, and break things, and we don’t make a mess.”

“They never have to feed us, either,” the banana monkey said.  “But we amuse them with our antics with toy bananas and such.”

“Then why do they bother getting pets, if we’re so great?” asked a big white plush monkey who didn’t have any movable fingers or toes.

“Some people don’t bother with pets,” the screeching hanging monkey said.  “They just buy bigger and better versions of us, with batteries, to try to get the monkey sounds, and even some of the “monkey do” business.  Still, it’s all the same in the end; we aren’t real.”

“The people who bother with ‘real’ animals are different,” the guerrilla observed, as she patted my face.  “What makes them different is that they are still willing to love, despite all the bad things they’ve experience in life, or the hurts they have had.  They are still willing to care about someone else, to clean up messes, to take care when someone gets sick, to get hurt again if necessary.  They want “real” animals, real company, somebody warm and fuzzy to cuddle.  They think it’s worth putting up with other things.”

“That’s why Nana wanted you.” The monkey with the dress told me.  “She saw those people hurt you, and it made her angry, and she wanted to make you happy.  You haven’t done very much to say ‘thank you’, have you?”