I'm behind on posting. I keep coming here and writing notes for the next post. Obviously my system isn't working. I'm at least three posts behind. But, I just had to write about this. Unfortunately, (or maybe not depending on how you view this space) this post will get to the web before the others.
When Doris was much younger (before Billie) I bought her Beanie Babies for toys. I suppose it all started with the Little Ceasar's Pizza Pizza Man (who wasn't really a beanie), but she's always loved small plush toys. "Pizza Man" was her first toy. When I brought her home I was attempting to entertain her and realized the only toys I had were ones I had collected from fast food restaurant kids' meals or other promotions -- a more prepared parent would have gone to PetCo or Hollywood Pet Star before going to pick her up. "Pizza Man" was the only one I could safely give her without fear of choking hazards.
Over the next year or two, we watched Pizza Man lose his toga. Then his slice of pizza. An arm. His crown of laurels. His hair. A leg. The other one. His stuffing. He's now a naked, pizza-less shred of flesh colored fabric with half of a face. But, even though Doris will be seven this year, if I say "Pizza Man" she knows exactly what I'm talking about and I have to take it out of her puppy box (I know, how queer) and let her at least run through the house with it for a lap or two.
God bless her, Spinner the Spider is the same way. I said "spider" to her tonight and instantly a 6" long drool came out of her mouth while I got the bug-eyed excited look of "where, where?!"
So, now, I am on eBay, searching for the retired since 1998 Spinner the Spider. Some are starting at $.99. Some have apparently lived in the splendor of smoke-free and pet-free homes that start at $6 or $7. That's OK. The last one I bought her (at the airport few years ago) was at least $6. We just won't tell the eBay sellers that Spinner is coming to have himself pulverized, chewed upon and contained within the confines of my beloved Doris' mouth as the legs flop outside her mouth while she proudly shows me what she has. Beautiful -- until she finally pops a hole in it and all the little white plastic beads, or "beans", end up all over the house. Then it's curtains for Spinner unless I let her keep the flat, lifeless cloth body. (I usually let her keep it until I start finding random spider parts under furniture in many rooms or until Cameron says "can we get rid of this?").
It's all worth every cent. Retired or not, the remaining Spinners will only increase in value as Doris runs through the supply.