As these things go, it could be worse. I think my ex would actually sew new ears onto my Snoopy.

I don't think I've ever admitted how I got Nichol's attention here. I mentioned sleeping with a stuffed animal in my profile. There was a bit of back and forth thereafter (and it basically turned out to be an afterthought), but by the time I showed up at her house, I was holding Snoopy.

See? I'm not full of shit.

There's an irony to this. I went full-bore with Snoopy, and she didn't believe that I was a newspaper editor. Odd thing to claim, as it comes with neither prestige nor income.

When I was staying with her last month, she was fine with the fact that I was playing with his ears in the living room, because she's used to that.

I think she finds it cute.

Teddy is another story. When I moved the family here from Oregon, she stopped to pee roadside, and, well, Teddy fell out. Which would not be realized for several hours.

I was already here, finding housing, and she was driving down with the boys and a whole harem of animals (mostly rabbits).

Every several years, Snoopy's ears run out. I've torn little bits out, and at a certain point, there's very little left to work with. And I have spare ears.

Only a couple of years ago, there's no way I would have trusted her to not mangle my stuffed animal. Oddly, now I don't think she has it in her to hurt me in that manner.

Time changes things.