Hi everyone, Poppy here, guest posting for Dawg today.  Thanks in advance for sticking around to read this whole post, I hope you enjoy it.

One day in June when I was still living back in Vermont France and Dawg and I were forced to use this archaic thing called “talking on the phone” as our daily form of communication I was staring at one of my favorite social networking sites (intentionally not linked) seeing what was new in my notifications section and noticed an advertisement.  I never notice advertisements on sites unless my brain renders them interesting, so I stared at the ad for a minute, registering why I might possibly want to process what I was looking at.  When I finally understood that I was staring at a super cute and cuddly-looking stuffed animal I clicked through and arrived to Squishable.com where I then saw a plethora of adorable stuffed animals—with a very large price tag.  “What the fuck?” I thought to myself.  “Why is this plush toy $38?  … And $44?!?!  Holy shit, dude!” And then I clicked the octopus:

Alone

With Human

“Those are HUGE!” I of course said this directly into the phone, felt slightly awkward about leaving that open-ended, and told Dawg, “go to Squishable dot com and click on the animals.  They’re HUGE!” We then both began clicking on each of the animals to see just how large they were and how silly the people who adopted them were with their Squishable poses and we knew right then and there we had to adopt some too. 

Dawg agreed to get me Squishy Octopie (the octopus, named Octopie after an adorable card that Stef sent me along with some presents last winter), I agreed to get him Squishy Duck, and we agreed at a later date to get Squishy Dawg (the puppy) to share.  A week later and I had Octopie while Dawg had The Duck.  Let me just explain to you: The material of these stuffed animals is the softest material I have ever-in-my-34-years felt.  It is so soft that as soon as I give a Squishy one squeeze I instantly release all the toxins from my body and euphoric nap time must occur.  Really, they’re that soft.  I’m not exaggerating.  I know you think I’m exaggerating.  I know I have a tendency to exaggerate.  But, … uh, well, could you just believe me this one time?  Because it’s really annoying when I’m telling 100% the truth and you sit there judging the validity of my statements.  Ok, thanks, 100%.  Really.  Do not operate heavy machinery while cuddling with the Squishies.

BACK TO THE STORY… Dawg and I were quite happy with our respective Squishies, sleeping with them every night.  And then it was almost July and I got the brilliant idea that I would get Dawg the Squishable puppy (Squishy Dawg) for his not-birthday, because Dawg doesn’t celebrate birthdays.  He thinks his birthdate is not to be celebrated, and who am I to tell him that he should, in fact, honor the day his mother, one of his most favorite people in the entire universe, went through all the labor and pain to deliver him into this world?  (<— Not guilt. ) I made sure that Squishy Dawg arrived a sufficient time after Dawg‘s birthday.  He called me up for one of our bedtime phone calls and said, “I have a box here.” I giggled because I knew that meant that Squishy Dawg had arrived.  I waited patiently while Dawg opened the box with his kitchen knife. *silence* I’m thinking in my head, “oh shit, I did something wrong.  I should have waited until my birthday to see if he got the puppy for me.” And then I hear, “helloooooo, Squishy Dawg!  What’s that?  You’d like to talk to me over on the bed?” (code for “nap time!”) and I knew I did a very good thing.

Such a good thing, in fact, that almost every night Dawg would take a nap before calling me for our bedtime phone call.  And, of course, the dork that I am, I got really irritated when one Thursday before Dawg was scheduled to come to France for the weekend to visit me and the kitties Dawg didn’t call me at bedtime and didn’t answer his phone the three times I called him.  I was a little mentally CAR-AZY that day and assumed that meant things between us had mysteriously gone to shit and he never wanted to talk to or see me again and [lots of profanities and mean, nasty words are not inserted here]… but the next morning Dawg confessed for our morning phone call, “sawy, I had a conversation with the Squishy Dawg and didn’t hear your phone call.” Score one gigantic asshat point for the Popstar.  (Who gets mad at their boyfriend for taking a nap that lasts until morning?  WHO?) So, then we had the running agreement that if either of us was being instructed by our Squishies to have a conversation with them before bedtime we’d let the other person know so that there was the opportunity for “good night” and “love you” pleasantries just in case the Squishy hijacked us for the rest of the night.

Fast forward to me suddenly living in New York with Dawg.  At the end of my time in France I had moved out of my apartment and in with Break Boy, His Lovely Wife, and their two children, EZA and LLA, who are actually mine but Break Boy and HLW made them and take care of them for me (technicality).  EZA‘s birthday is coming up soon so before I left France I asked him what his favorite animals were.  He told me “bear” and “rabbit”.  So last week I ordered the Squishy Bunny for EZA‘s birthday… and of course I had to also order a Squishable for LLA (pronounced “el-lah”)…

Squishy LLA-fant.  When the Squishies arrived I packed EZA‘s into a gift bag but I did nothing with Squishy LLA-fant, because LLA‘s birthday is not until March, and I know for a fact that if I give LLA her LLA-fant when it’s EZA‘s birthday weekend all not-so-goodness will break loose and meltdown will occur.  Soooooo, I was going to hold onto Squishy LLA-fant until March, but I did this thing when Dawg came home from work where I told him this story about LLA-fant, but I added, “we could keep the elephant if you like, and I can order her a new one for March… do you wanna see the elephant?” I pulled Squishy LLA-fant out of the cellophane bag he was in.  Dawg took one look, grabbed him, and hugged him so hard I could hear LLA-fant gasping for air, then laid right down to have a conversation.  Needless to say, Squishy LLA-fant is no longer LLA‘s.  And he has been renamed…

to Snuffy, our fourth Squishable.  And if anybody’s wondering: Yes, we have plans to grow the Squishable family, but just three more.  If we get more than seven we won’t all fit in our new apartment. I’ll be ordering LLA‘s really-for-real LLA-fant soon.