If you stay in rescue long enough or become involved enough, rescue will at some point inevitably break your heart. The sad truth is that you cannot save every dog. Sometimes you cannot even save a dog that you bring into your home and fall in love with. After having my heart broken this past fall, I told myself that I wasn’t going to do that again–I wasn’t going to set myself up, I wasn’t going to put myself in a position to get hurt all over again.

So when I decided to bring Amora into my home I kidded myself that I wouldn’t get hurt, that I knew what I was getting into, that there would be no way I would be putting my heart out there. That lasted for exactly 6 hours. 6 hours after picking Amora up from Animal Control, I was on the living room floor with her. I had moved from my nice comfy bed out to the living room because I couldn’t stand to listen to Amora’s labored breathing from that far away. I was crying for the amount of effort that Amora had to put forth to take a breath, I was crying for this sweet old lady who had had such a hard life, and I was crying trying to decide if it was selfish of me to keep Amora in this world–I was contemplating whether I should make the call the next day, Saturday, since I didn’t want her to have to suffer through the weekend. Just like that Amora had my heart, and all my plans for not falling for her, for not having my heart be broken, went right out the window as I laid on the living room floor that night, always sure to have my hand on her old body so that she knew that she would never be alone again. Just like that, Amora was my girl.

And for almost exactly four months Amora had my heart wound around her old, arthritic paws. There was just something about the look she would give, the way she would stare at me intently when I had something that she wanted, and the way that she would roll over when she was getting some lovin’ in order to ensure that her belly did not miss out on the good scratches. Or maybe it was the way that she was a mama’s girl, the way she always wanted to be close to her mama. But then there were also Amora’s happy noises. Amora was all about being heard. Her back legs sometimes caused her difficulty in not allowing her to be directly in the center of attention, as she so wanted, so she made up for it with her noises. Or was it her demanding, spunky, I want what I want and I WILL get what I want attitude. And lest I forget, there was Amora’s crazy ear that only made her look that much more enduring. Her one ear stuck straight up as you would expect an ear to, but the other, the other would fall over crumpled onto itself as if it had been broken long ago. In retrospect, it was all of these things that I fell for. I loved Amora completely and totally.
In the last days that Amora was with me I took her all in. I buried my face in her neck, I rubbed my fingers into her old body in a massaging motion, I sat and stared at her. I wanted to make sure that I had seared into my memory Amora as she was exactly. I didn’t want to forget one single detail.

And then just before the end I went all the way back to the beginning in order to remind myself what this whole experience was all about: A compassion hold is when an “unadoptable” dog (read old, sick, frail) is taken out of animal control, off of death row, and brought into the home of a very special foster. In this home these richly deserving dogs are lavished with love, wonderful food, soft clean bedding and those other creature comforts that make life that much better. They are given the best few weeks any dog can ask for before they are delivered from this earth in the arms of someone who loves them. Every dog should be so lucky.

I needed to remind myself that Amora’s time with me wasn’t meant to be measured in quantitative terms. Instead I reminded myself that nothing in this world lasts forever and that some of the absolute best things in life are fleeting, brief and transient experiences that end much too quickly for those living the experience.

And so when it really was time, and when Amora wanted nothing to do with anyone touching her back legs, as those were the legs that always gave her the most trouble and pain, I was on the floor at the vet’s office with her and I held Amora in my arms to comfort and reassure her. I felt her body get heavier and heavier as each second passed. And I whispered to her, “I love you, sweet lady. You were such a good, good girl. Take care of yourself until we meet again.” The back of her neck catching my tears the whole time. And then she left this earth.

So My ‘Mora…Thank you for the joy and the happiness that you brought with you. You made us laugh, you made us smile. Now go on, enjoy those green fields and hills. Bask in the sun. Know that you were loved, and that you will be missed dearly.  The pleasure was all ours. Until we meet again Sweet, Sweet Lady…

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I don’t have a tale to tell of my birth or the early days of my life. My story really begins at Minneapolis Animal Control where the kindness strangers (3 lovely ladies from ARLP) made all the difference for a little pup found on the wrong side of the tracks.

Little did I know when these strangers came to visit that a few days later I would find myself in a safe and loving home, where I will be cared for until they find the perfect family for me. Yup that is what they promised, my very own family to love me– pretty cool huh! My new foster momma tells me I am her little Blanche Dubois dog.  I am not exactly sure what that means but she is nice and gives me lots of love and takes care of me so it must be a good thing.

Well foster momma says that I need to “share” a little bit about myself so all of the peeps can get to know me a little better. So here goes:

I am a pretty, little white pittie. I have really long legs that remind my momma of a colt and what Auntie Lara calls a lanky body. When I say “little” I really mean skinny – I am about 4 months old but apparently someone forgot to feed me on a regular basis. Momma is making up for it now and I get regular meals, treats and this super cool thing she calls a Kong filled with peanut butter and homemade biscuits. Yum! I am living the good life now.

The shut down

I had to do this thing called a shut down with my momma. For some reason she said I needed to chill out and adapt to my new digs. I wasn’t allowed to play with the other dogs in the house for a whole week. Really I didn’t mind all that much as I was so happy to get my new momma all to myself. She said she was supposed to have me leashed to her for the week – but found that after a couple of days she didn’t need to as I wouldn’t leave her side for anything. I know a good thing when I see it and I wasn’t going to let her out of my sight.

What’s in a name?

I bet you are wondering what my name is…well so was my momma. She said she wanted to pick a name that would be perfect for me. She finally decided that I was so special I needed 2! So she named me “Maggie Moon” aka “Moon Doggie”.  I like it – classic with a twist and it fits my personality. I am definitely a wiggle butt. I love the people ….if I see a person I get super excited. I wag my tail really fast and want to leap up on the person and give them kisses. Momma tells me this is rude and I need to learn some manners. I don’t know what this rude thing is but she makes it sound bad – but how can it be wrong to want to share the love?

Gosh there is just so so much I have to tell you! My momma says I am a little spitfire and that I am very well adjusted and confident for a puppy. I love to play with my foster sister Miss Ella and while I try to play with my foster brothers they aren’t having any of it quite yet. My momma says I need to give them some space and mind my manners. Gosh this manner thing again – I guess I am really going to have to learn what that is all about.

Well I could go on and on but Momma said that is plenty good for now.

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Ya, I am a playa’. I love everyone and I will show them!! Now, my foster mom told me that someone called me slutty. She didn’t think that was the right word so she looked up the word slut in the dictionary and the definition is “slovenly woman”, she said that I am a playa’ instead. Must be the boy version.

My foster mom has a cat! Did you know that? This is a big gray ball of fur but sadly enough he won’t play with me, don’t know why he just won’t. Dennis told me about this cat before he left for his forever home, but being the playa’ that I am, I figured he wouldn’t be an issue. He is.

I kinda like it here. I get two squares a day, a game of tug with my foster mom or my foster sister Biloxi and I get treats like crazy. But, I always have to do something for them; she doesn’t just give them to me. I either have to sit or lay down and now my foster mom is trying to get me to look her in the eyes. But hey it’s for food. No biggie. Oh and get this – she makes me WAIT for my dinner!!! She puts the food in the dish and she makes me sit and wait until SHE says it’s okay to eat. What the heck is that all about?

Thursday I got to go to an office. Who cares what it is called; there were people there! I kept hearing words like snuggly and adorable. I think these are good, right? There is this guy named Jim that works there and he said that he didn’t like Pitbulls……CONVERT!!! He couldn’t keep his hands off of me. Must have been the snuggles I gave him. He even took a picture of me. Score!

Wednesday I got to go to the vet. What nice ladies! They gave me treats and I didn’t have to do a thing, just be my very cute playa’ self. I overheard my foster mom telling someone that I got shots (I don’t think this a fun thing) and I didn’t even know it! I probably didn’t notice because one the nice ladies was giving me treats – just giving them to me!!

Oh that kennel thing, let’s chat about that for a minute. Do all foster dogs have to go into this contraption? Just whose idea was this anyway? Okay, so I go in and I get a treat. Big deal, she closes the door and I am stuck there! Then she started putting really stinky treats in my kong, big deal, I eat them and they are gone. Then…………….I am stuck there!!! I tried crying, whining and barking. Nothing works; there I am until she lets me out. Don’t tell anyone, it really isn’t that bad. It has a nice comfy blanket and my kong.

I have one other problem. I L.O.V.E. to snuggle. My foster sister is not a snuggler, she does allow me next to her from time to time, but she isn’t happy about it, it’s like she is doing me a favor. So I take advantage of it when I can, but I have found out that my foster mom is a snuggler. Ahhhh. Maybe this isn’t a problem after all. I have to think about this.

All things considered, life here is good. Thank you ARLP ladies for letting me out of the cage and into this nice home (even if my foster mom does make me wait for my food).

This sums up my first week as a foster dog…..more tails to come!! (get it?)

Albert the Playa’

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Waiting for Adoption

By Zoza, aka, Wozie, Zozie, Woza

It’s not bad, being a foster dog that is.  I get 2 squares a day and treats.  I get to go for walks and on adventures to Pet Smart where all the nice ladies dote on me, and pet me and put more treats into my belly.  Its not bad living with my foster parents either.  They love me and cuddle with me and help me learn manners.  They compliment my progress and are patient when I am still learning.

It’s not bad at all.  But there is a rumor out there; I saw it on the ARLP forum.  There are other dogs finding their forever homes.

Now for me, sure a forever home would be nice.  No more temporary people with a temporary home, but hey a temporary home is still a home.  I mean, it’s good for a dog like me, right?

I don’t really feel sorry for myself, like I said I have it pretty cake and all.  But you know I am a very pretty lil pittie who loves, loves, loves people.  I am a happy girl and pretty low maintenance- I know when to go outside and take care of business, if you know what I mean.

Now don’t get me wrong, those ARLP ladies know what they are doing and take in only the Pitt of the litter, (or rott) so we are all awesome pups to adopt, but have you seen me??? I am just an awesome girly and my foster parents think that I deserve the bestest.  Ok, so maybe those dogs that were recently adopted found their “right” home, the perfect match so to speak.  And my foster momma has promised to keep me for as long as it takes, and yeah, I am a little special.  So what if dogs scare me- I am awesome with kids and would love to be YOUR dog.  Do you know anything about pitties; cause let me tell you, I am an exceptional pittie.  Alright, I am being biased here, and in truth, we are all exceptional.  But what does it take to find perfection anyways?  I mean, my forever home has to be out there right?

Oh, and if you are considering adopting me, let me help sway you…

Do you ever come home from work and just wish someone was smiling at you? Well that’s me.

Do you ever wish you had someone to cuddle you and give you sloppy kisses? Me again.

Do you ever wish that someone would love you in spite of the holiday weight you put on? Guess what, I don’t care what you weigh.

How about an exercise partner and motivator? Well then I am your dog.

Got kids who need an awesome playmate- Gosh, that sounds like me too.

Need someone to play dress up with? Have you seen my bio- cuz I have been everything from a bee to a turtle.

Need someone to listen?  I am a great listener, I could listen to you talk all day.

Have a yard and you need someone to run around and act silly with?  Well, I am a pittie and its well known that we are all silly clowns.

All your friends bragging about their two and four legged kids? I can give you lots to brag about- I am not only beautiful, but smart too.

Hey kids, don’t like your veggies?  Shhh…I don’t mind sharing and it will be our little secret.

Puppies not your thing? Great, cuz I am a full grown lady- who can play like a pup at a moments notice.

Live in an apartment, house, townhouse? Perfect cause I am not picky, so long as you have the right insurance then we are A-OK.

Need a lifetime friend?  I will be your life long companion.

Only looking to be a one dog house hold? Great I have enough love that you won’t need another pet, I will love you forever and unconditionally, promise.

Ever feel like something is missing? Me too.  I am looking for you and waiting as patiently as possible, cause my foster momma keeps telling the best things are worth waiting for-so if your looking for me, I am available for adoption and would make your home complete.  My name is Zoza and I am ready to be yours!

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I first met Haley in September of 2009. She was one of the 35 dogs seized in Iowa. Iowa was one of the states involved in that big ‘ol crap storm in July of 2009.

In Iowa Haley was my introduction to what was going to be. The first dog of 35 we were going to be evaluating for the US Marshall who would then present our findings to the presiding federal judge.

Haley was lucky. She had Rita, the US Marshall who worked tirelessly to find someone, anyone, qualified to evaluate pit bull temperament. Rita had a plan. She wanted to be in a position to cognitively appeal to the presiding judge on the dogs’ behalf. To Rita, there had to be a place in the world somewhere for some of these dogs.

She was right there was.

There hasn’t been a lot about Haley on our forum or this blog.  Life outside of the shelter was a scary thing. Haley has needed time to adjust. Lucky for her she scored a spot with ARLP treasurer Amy and her dude, disc dogger, Larry. How awesome was that?? Together they have worked to introduce Haley to a world that she would want to be a part of.

As Haley began venturing out of her shell Amy and Larry noticed that Haley was having issues with one of her legs. When some R&R failed to improve the condition they brought her to ARLP’s veterinarian, Dr. Rahimi. X-rays revealed that our sweet little Haley had a luxating patella. This occurs when the groove at the bottom of the femur in which the patella (knee cap) slides up and down, is too shallow.  The knee cap slides from side to side instead of sliding up and down, and jumps out of the groove – or “luxates”.   When the joint is luxated, it causes the leg to go lame or limp – not to mention it is very painful.  If left untreated, the groove will wear down and the joint will become arthritic, causing permanent swelling, poor mobility or total lameness.

Last week Haley had surgery to repair the patella. It went well! And we are all hopeful that Haley will make a full recovery. The hardest part now will be keeping her still. For in true pittie fashion, Haley feels she is good to go. And why shouldn’t she? Life is good now. No more dogfighters, no more rotating knee caps, no more scary things.

Here is some video footage of Haley. Haley remains uber camera shy but we will do our best to get photos to document her progress.

As you can imagine, Haley’s surgery was expensive. Even though we are only a lil’ bitty rescue operating on a shoestring we didn’t think twice about whether or not to make this repair. Haley has come too far to start hitting snags now.

If you would like to help A Rotta Love Plus with the cost of the surgery and follow-up care by making a donation, please click on the donate button at the top left of this page.

THANK YOU SO MUCH!

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No this isn’t a pit bull, or a Rottweiler for that matter. It is a poodle though. A poodle I am calling Mugs.

Mugs was seized by Animal Humane Society from a Minnesota puppy mill.

The mill dogs have a special place in my heart. And when the call came for help I couldn’t say no. After all we have a cat on our available dogs page why not a poodle? Mugs was not at all what I expected he would be. Initially at AHS he shut down, would not be handled and was all whale eye.

I was fully expecting to put some work into Mugs with the hope he would eventually be adoptable. I thought six months was a realistic guess.The moppet was afraid that is for sure but he wanted my attention even though he was afraid, a really good sign. I brought him home and sequestered him in the living room fully prepared for a dog that possibly would want nothing to do with me.  Especially after I bathed him.

Mugs was foul. He was so matted there wasn’t an area with single hairs anywhere on his being. His rear end looked like 6 Brillo pads had been smashed and glued onto his back. Into the tub he went. I like to use lavender scented baby soap for the new stinky dogs that come into my home. What better way to wash the stank out?

This is what the bathtub looked like afterward. Those are mattes floating in the water. Keep in mind, Mugs is a 7 lb dog.

Mugs survived the bath. He actually didn’t mind it as long as I let him stand with his front paws on the side of the bathtub with his face in my chest. I was smitten immediately.

Once the little bugger dried he looked like this.

Once he was clean and the additional dog was removed from his body it became only too apparent that this was one HAPPY dog! Just a nut box. And, well, I love me some nut boxes. When they say that dogs don’t carry baggage there isn’t a dog who I have met that serves as a better example of that than Mugs. I wish all puppy mill survivors and rescues could be so lucky.

Mugs is two years old. The first two years of his life were spent in a puppy mill. Right from the git all Mugs has wanted to do was interact with me. He was all about this woman who brought him to this new place, tossed him into a bathtub of water, cut the mattes away from his body and massaged him with lavender soap while whispering sweet nothings into his ear. I guess a little slice of heaven in his frame of reference.

Mugs is curious. He is smart. He is sweet. Which is why dealing with the fact that he will piss and poo at will and doesn’t know what stairs are that much more bearable. It is fun working with Mugs because Mugs throws himself into all with gusto. Yes, that includes going outside into the cold and snow to potty even though he doesn’t know that outside is the only place potty belongs. Just coz you be little doesn’t mean you can’t potty outside, right Chi?

Let me tell you it does a body good. Chi, who like Mugs, spent the first two years of his life in a puppy mill, will never be curious. He will never let anyone but me see the quirky happy dog he has become since coming to live with me three years ago. It took Chi almost a week before he would even approach me. He would stare at me from inside his kennel intently. Waiting, ready to run if necessary.

And that is ok. Chi has taught me many valuable lessons, something all dogs can do if we stop long enough to listen.

The world is Mug’s oyster. And I feel lucky to be a part of this initial exploration of life beyond kennel bars.

Special thank you to Stacie and Micaela at Central Bark in Eden Prairie for donating their time and grooming services to Mugs.

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The pit bull loving world lost a friend this month. Many know Demo by way of the beautiful book his person wrote, of which he was the star. Demo, the Story of a Junkyard Dog, richly illustrated by Scott Bruns, is a sweet and deeply touching story about dog yearning to be seen for who he truly is. What better message for a pit bull to embody than one that encourages all of us to look beneath the surface to see what is really there. Against every conceivable obstacle Demo prevails.

This is a fantastic book that examines environmental and social issues in addition to its positive message about pit bulls.

Thank you Demo.

Please take a moment to read the beautiful tribute Jon wrote to his own personal Snoopy.

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WOAH people!  Can you believe what my foster mama wrote down there?  Brody this, Brody that, who’s a good boy, what a goood boooy.   HELLO people!  I thought this was a blog about rescue doggies like ME, not spoiled prissy-prince doggies who always get the good side of the couch!

I AM GEORGIE!

Well.  One thing my mama got right was about “Grody” picking on me when I first moved in, but I did not give up!  Nope!  I kept trying…and trying…and trying…to get him to like me, and one day he finally gave in.  (Who can blame him?  I have always possessed a charm that is lethal to men of my species.)  Not every dog would put in the time and effort necessary to win over that cranky ol’ man, but I DID!  Score one point for Georgie, wahoo!

You know what else?  When people come to the door, Brody has to go in the bedroom cuz he can’t keep his loud yapper closed long enough to let the nice people through the door to play!  Did my foster mama tell you that?  Did she tell you that Brody didn’t get to come to book club, but I did, because I am GEORGIE and I am LOVE and SWEETNESS?  Ha, I cannot even read and I still got invited to book club.  How is that for a good dog trick?

And when foster mama tells me to “kennel up,” boy do I launch myself right into my crate!  Brody doesn’t even know what a kennel IS!  Who’s a good doggie now, huh mom?

I gotta run, I think I hear the sound of my foster mama giving my Kong Wubba to Brody.  This is outrageous, people!

Somebody score me a forever home soon so I can finally get some ‘preciaiton around here!

Smooches,
♥ GEORGIE ♥

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This is a post by ARLP foster Sara.

Sara is currently fostering Georgie. Georgie is fun and spunk dogified and is available for adoption (click on photo to view her profile).

Before my first fostering experience I had a number of preconceptions about what it would be like, some of which turned out to be accurate (for example, that it would be sanity-testing at some times; blissful and gratifying at others). One thing I did not anticipate was how fostering would positively affect my relationship with my resident dog, Brody.

Improved Leadership

In many respects, we saw Brody as the perfect dog before our first foster, Georgie, came into our lives: he naturally deferred to our authority the majority of the time, was loving, loyal, and very eager to please. Brody was our baby and, with our adoration and attention — not to mention several series of obedience classes — he blossomed into an affectionate, respectful, obedient, and dog-tolerant adult dog.

So it came as a surprise to us that, after the two-week shutdown, Brody and Georgie’s introduction did not go well (a longer story for another blog entry, perhaps). Given our history with Brody, we initially held Georgie responsible for the less-than-ideal introductions. But with the guidance of our ARLP case manager, we learned that it was probably mostly Brody’s issue, and would have to do some work with him.

To that end, we instated a new emphasis on human leadership in our home through the Nothing in Life is Free program, and observed as both Brody and Georgie became even more in tuned to us. One day several weeks later, when a small scuffle broke out in the midst of their play session, all I had to do was say Brody’s name to get his attention, and he looked at me and sat, ignoring Georgie. I could tell that we both felt better knowing that I was in charge of the situation.

Old Dog, New Tricks

As I have alluded to, Brody has had the basics – sit, down, come, stay, off – down pat since he was a wee little puppy. We had become a bit lazy about working with him since there was not an immediate need to do so, but now that we have been working with Georgie, the clicker and treats are always at the ready. As a result of this convenience, we have also put some time into teaching Brody a few new tricks. It gives him the opportunity to receive some much-needed one on one attention from us, is a lot of fun for everyone involved, and provides a break for him from the tension that sometimes exists in our multi-dog household.

Gratitude

Finally, fostering strengthened my bond with my resident dog simply through gratitude. In the beginning, it was the way Brody relaxed patiently in his doggy bed until 10 am when Georgie would start howling in her crate at 5; the way he can be in a kitchen full of food and people all night and keep all four paws on the ground throughout the evening; the way he knows, without command, to stay in the back seat during car rides; and more. Now that Georgie has become much better mannered in her new surroundings and as accustomed to our household routine as her foster brother is, I am still so grateful to Brody for his patience with us as we fumble through our first fostering attempt, for sharing his toys and his people, and for opening his home to Georgie and to any other foster dogs that we are fortunate enough to meet in our future.

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It is always hard walking through animal control. There are so many pit bulls. And when we are walking thru we usually only have one open foster home available. It isn’t often that we see a senior pit bull. The sad reality is the vast majority of pit bulls don’t see the up side of two years old. When we do see a senior pit bull our hearts ache in a whole different kind of way.  It is difficult enough to place seniors let a lone one who happens to be a pit bull.

In the beginning of last November I was taking a walk thru MAAC. So many happy slutty pit bulls came to the front of their runs to greet me. I like to stop and acknowledge each one. I almost left the first bay when I got close to the end because there did not appear to be anyone in the last kennel. No one anxious to make my acquaintance anyway. Yet something made me take a peek just to be sure.

There in the back of the kennel was an old, rickety, crusty gal. She was laying on a soft blanket that had been provided to her by the caring staff. I knelt down and coaxed her over. And she hobbled on over to appease me. Such soulful eyes. There was a pang in my heart as I walked away. There was nothing I could do for her.

The next night as I was walking out of ARLP’s offices with fellow volunteer Michelle K., I thought about the old girl. Michelle is a “big picture” thinker who has one of those big open hearts all creatures are welcome to fall into. So I asked her. I asked her if she would consider giving “Diggs” some quality time before she left this earth. She didn’t hesitate, “I can do that”, “I would like to do that”.

On November 6th, 2009 Michelle met me at animal control. She was there to pick up a beleaguered old lady and Amora became ARLP’s first ever compassion hold.

Last week I emailed Michelle and asked her how our old gal was doing. Here is what she had to say:

Amora is still doing wonderfully fantastic.

She loves her some attention & scratches & cuddles & love, and she’s all about the begging. She loves to eat–especially if it is chicken or anything good that might come from the kitchen. She hangs out on her dog bed in the middle of the house. I think that she just likes to feel like she’s a part of the action, like she’s included, rather than being kept away from things and people. So she pretty much stays on her bed and rests, unless she wants to do some begging action in the kitchen.

She’s just so easy to have around, besides a little loving a few times a day, taking her out to do her business and feeding her, she is, as Brian calls her in a very affection way, a piece of ‘furniture.’ That is how easy she is–when you walk by her she wants you to stop and acknowledge her, she loves to roll on her back to rub her belly, but that is all that she really asks from us.

I never intended to add a third dog to my house, and that’s still not my plan. I don’t imagine her being with me for months or years…but the thing is that selfishly Amora makes me feel good. In so many ways I feel powerless to really make a difference, an impact or a change in everything that is wrong with the state of animals in our society today. There is just so much need out there. And in so many ways I really am powerless, but all I have to do is look at Amora and she makes me happy because she is so incredibly happy. With her I have something in front of me everyday to make me smile. After only a few days with us Amora’s story no longer was a sad one, but a happy one. That’s the one thing that I stress to people about Amora, her story is only a happy one–if Amora is anything at all, she is happy. And I want to keep letting her be happy.

We’re just going to keep hanging for as long as she’s feeling well and doing well, whether it’s tomorrow or a month from now.

Pictured above: Amora, Michelle & Amora

Thinking about Amora reminded me of one of my favorite stories.

Excerpt from the Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams

(this starts at the point when the Skin Horse and the Rabbit are talking)

The Skin Horse had lived longer in the nursery than any of the others. He was so old and most of the hairs in his tail had been pulled out to string bead necklaces. For nursery magic is very strange and wonderful, and only those playthings that are old and wise and experienced like the Skin Horse understand all about it.

“What is REAL?” asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. “Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?”

“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.”

“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.

“Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. “When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.”

“Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,” he asked, “or bit by bit?”

“It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse. “You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in your joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”

Thank you Michelle.

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