Stuffed Lemur (or is it a leopard?)

Day 231: stuffed Lemur (or is it a leopard?)

I've got a lot of stuffed animals that will be a struggle to let go of. Dancing Bear, the first one I bought, for Emma, before she was born, back when I'd  spread a tiny onesie out on our bed and imagine that soon, it would be filled with baby. Teddy Bear, whom I asked for and got for Cheistmas when I was seven years old, a little embarrassed to ask because at the time, I thought I was too old for stuffed animals. He's been everywhere with me: college, Europe, San Francisco. Snoopy, a gift for Sam his very first Christmas, from Rich's cousin Connie. Snoopy still sleeps in Sam's bed.  Mr. Egg, a weird slinky nylon Teddy bear stuffed with hard little beans, who is now living in a dorm with Emma. Rosemary, the lifelike German Shepherd Dog that Miranda brought for us, all the way across the country on an airplane. Or the cheery lion Ina brought from Turingia. 

The lemur can go. It's supposed to talk (what do lemurs say, anyway?). It's got a hard square silent voice box buried in its gut, which makes it less sweet and cuddly and more like a piece of junk. It does have appeal for the canine member of our family - I had trouble photographing it because Harpo kept tearing past and grabbing at it with his teeth - but I'm afraid the dog will choke on the busted voice box if he accomplishes his goal of dismembering it. 

I suspect there may be one or two more in the stuffed animal basket who can go. But definitely not Greg, the stuffed bear that Emma knitted for Sam, with my mother's help. Nor the naked Raggedy Ann and Andy my mom's friend made for Emma, which she spent hours dressing and undressing. And not the awesome six foot stuffed snake we've got wrapped around our attic chimney.  

No indeed. We can't get rid of Snoopy or Teddy Bear or Mr. Egg or Greg or Rosemary or Raggedy Ann and Andy or Dancing Bear or the snake. Some things cannot be discarded.