Woofie

This is Woofie, an unoriginal name I know, he was bought at an Esso station with Esso tokens. I cannot remember my life without him. I know that at 24 he probably shouldn't still be on my bed, but it seems cruel to pack him away. Toy Story has had an impact.

When I was about three we were on holiday and I left Woofie in a resteraunt. I remember this very clearly, not only because it was traumatic to be without him for a night (and I knew it wasn't a given that he would be there the next day) but because I got a splinter and I had to have it removed without Woofie there. Thankfully, when we went back the next day he was there waiting for me.

Going to stay at my granny's was a real treat when me and my brother were wee. It meant late nights, getting to wear her Tom and Jerry nightie, salt and vinegar Golden Wonder crisps and a sachet of flavoured hot chocolate drunk from a glass that used to be mum and aunt's. But it also meant Woofie being put in the washing machine and hung up on the whirly gig by his ears whilst I watched from the kitchen window, as granny always thought he was a bit manky looking. I remember genuine anxiety that something terrible would happen. I think it's his anxious expression - it makes me want to look after him.

His eyes and nose may be a bit bashed and he's definitely not as plush as he once was but he is the finest puppet there ever was in my eyes.