Fast-forward to 2013 and Poopsie is described by Addie as being "Pooh Bear's brother." He's a frequent guest at the dinner table, a regular car-riding companion, and somewhat of a snazzy dresser at times (even when it's "in Drag").
What's unfortunate, is that Poopsie Bear recently had a run-in with a real asshole named Harry Potter.
Harry is a dog... a sad brute that is more brawn than brains. Purchased as a puppy over a decade ago, Harry was pitched to us as a mix between a Pug and an American Rat Terrier. He looks somewhat like a "Puggle," but with short ears. As he "matured" into adulthood, it became clear that he's not Rat Terrier - but possibly Pit Bull, Bulldog, or some other, more "meaty" kind of dog. Despite thousands of dollars in training, Harry (named by my wife for a series of books by J.K. Rowling that I've never read) typically only responds to me, fails to follow the most basic of commands, and has a history of destroying toys. In fact, Harry is so bad, that he can't even be out with his "brother" Rocky, as the two of them mauled each other back in 2010. I'm switching dogs out all day long (one in cage, one roaming free), and while Rocky can (for the most part) be trusted, Harry can't be left out-of-sight. As I type this at 11:34pm, the a-hole is sitting next to me on the floor. If I leave the room, chances are - he'll eat my computer.
Back in early February, Poopsie Bear took a ride to Deer Park for a special, pre-Valentine's Day Tea Party at Pottery Barn Kids. Addie was decked-out in her finest Cinderella dress, and Poopsie was her companion as they enjoyed stories while sharing drinks and snacks with Mommy and Auntie Jill.
The following morning, Addie played with Poopsie Bear for awhile as I secretly shot a little video of them engaged in a five-minute conversation. As the whole family soon prepared to go outside for some winter play, Poopsie Bear was left on the table for a few moments, and that's when tragedy struck. Harry swooped in and viciously attacked Poopsie Bear, tossing him about and mauling his face. In mere seconds, Poopsie Bear had been made to look disturbingly like Gary Oldman in HANNIBAL. His face was destroyed, and his nose had been ripped out. Panicked, Addie looked at Poopsie Bear and started weeping. "It's ok... it's ok..," she said, holding back tears for around 30 seconds until she broke out in a full-fledged crying fit. As we tried to comfort our little girl, I threatened Harry with a trip to the Chinese Restaurant. Since he doesn't speak English, my words fell upon deaf dog ears. I took Poopsie Bear from Addie and gently told her that Poopsie would be going to "the bear doctor" to get better.
"The Bear Doctor" works at a hospital called eBay.
I'm not sure how I would've handled this in the pre-internet years, but in 2013 it was fairly simple to track down a toy that had been "retired" and out-of-production for over a decade. It took a bit to find one that was new, and reasonably-priced, but I found one. The original Poopsie Bear was stashed in a cabinet while we awaited the arrival of his replacement.
Every day for the next week, Addie would ask, "Did Poopsie Bear come back?"
Then one morning, as we prepared for breakfast, a familiar, yellow bear returned to the dining room table. Poopsie Bear had come back...
All was well.
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