True life Toy Story

"Toy Story 4" is as good as it gets.  

You'll laugh, you'll weep, you'll marvel at the outstanding animation, you'll try to guess what actor is doing what voice, you'll be riveted by the plot..oh wow, it's so good!

And it makes you think about your own childhood and your own toys.

Evan had a plush toy cat that was his favorite companion until Luke killed it.

 That cat had nine lives, getting lost in a thousand stores, getting left behind in so many restaurants.

That cat was never supposed to be his, but a Mom I met from the pre-natal class never showed up to the reunion at  my house, so the other Mom who DID show  got the black-and-white dog(she gave Evan a cheap  rattle) and Evan got to keep the cat that turned into his favorite  comfort toy. 

That Cat knew he had a Friend in Evan. 

I don't even sew, and don't have a sewing machine, but I tried to clone the cat out of a cloth diaper and one of Jim's black socks and some discarded googly eyes, and you know? 

 That weirdo  cat somehow survived...Maybe because Evan knew it was fake and didn't want any part of it?? 

 I'm not sure...

The original, beloved  cat survived hurricanes  and  heat waves and snow storms and the washing machine, but he was no match for a vicious poodle.

 His head survived, but Evan knew it was time to let him go...

MY favorite toy was my Skipper doll, the first doll made of soft,  pliable plastic with bendable legs.

 I never liked her big sister Barbie, and this was long before I realized feminists weren't supposed to like a hard  plastic fashionista, but Skipper was funny and spunky and little and cute.

Skipper was  the best. 

 My current hairstyle matches hers--poker straight with a slightly red hue, but that's from chemicals, and Skipper got her look in a Mattel factory.

She was my BFF, until that fatal day in 1966. 

 I was ten, and my parents came to Gimbel's parking lot to pick me up from a three week stay at overnight camp. My brother Steven came too, and there was a sadness in his eyes..and a giggle he was trying to stifle..

He greeted me with:  "How was camp?" and that was followed immediately  by "Skipper died!"

Seems those pliable, soft, bendable legs not only impressed me, Her Child, but they apparently gave a lot of comfort to my crazy, anxiety-ridden  little mutt.

  (So it's not only those  pure-breeds like poodles  that get the Devil in 'em)

I ran upstairs to see what was left of Skipper--mangled dress, unrecognizable sun hat, tooth-marked legs, ripped hair...

Skipper was indeed, for all intents and purposes, ready for her trip that big doll house in the sky.

I forgave my dog..after screaming at him mercilessly until he cowered.

I got a new Skipper two weeks later, and she enjoyed her life with me way into my teens--and way up high on a new, dog-proof  shelf.

Thanks, "Toy Story 4" for the laughs, the tears, and most of all, the memories...