Plopper was given to me by a friend when I was in hospital a few years back. He was a reminder to me that someone cared about me while I was dealing with the hospital experience.
When I went home from the hospital, Plopper took his place on my bed and suddenly developed a voice of his own. As in “honey, Plopper thinks it’s time for you to make coffee“.
When we got our first yorkie, Plopper had to leave the comfort of our bed in fear of him becoming a chew toy for Chelsea. Now, as I mentioned, he’s been relegated to the top of my writing desk.
He doesn’t speak much anymore, but he’s still a wonderful reminder of caring and fun in years gone by.
Do you have a “Plopper” in your life?