Challenge Weeks Four and Five: Media and a Memory

When I was little, I adored my ginormous, pale pink, fluffy puppy named Penelope, except when I was little I couldn’t pronounce “Penelope” so she was “Penople”. She was the jewel of my huge collection of stuffed animals.

I remember when I received her. “Puppy!” I’d squealed, overjoyed. I immediately jumped onto the fluffy puppy that was more than double my size. My parents laughed, but they’d regret giving her to me later. Penelope went EVERYWHERE with me. The pool, the playground, the bathtub, bed, the car. We were always together. She was like an emotional rock. She gave me comfort. She was a giant security blanket. No one teased me about her, because all the kids grew up seeing me with my pink, fluffy sidekick. I can see in my minds eye, my first day of preschool… my mom trying to separate us, saying that I needed to let go. My dad saying that it’d be fine, that I had nothing to worry about. After all, it was only preschool. So Penelope came with me to preschool. She stayed by my side for over five years. Eventually, I grew out of the need to have her with me everywhere, and let her go. Still, I go to her for comfort in extreme cases. When my grandma died, I sobbed into Penelope in my bed for countless nights. Whenever I go through too much stress, I go to Penelope for comfort. Sometimes I just go to her out of familiarity. I don’t need comfort, I just need something to cuddle. She is my a big, fluffy, puppy that is there for my comfort and happiness. I have Mrs. Chenisi to thank for getting me my favorite childhood toy. So, belatedly, thank you for giving me the huge pink dog for my birthday.