I hear whispers,

they are coming from the bedroom closet.  "Now what?" I wonder aloud.

I push open the closet door.  Two bears, in a heap, are blinking at me.  One is  large, beige and very floppy, the other has dark brown wiry fur, with grey paws.

Obviously I had forgotten to take them out of the closet.  Poor babies, they get shoved in the closet every time I get a call someone is coming to look at the house.  I feel really bad, I love them.

The floppy bear is "Burgie Bear".  My dear labradoodle from the time he was a pup had great mothering instincts and would gently carry stuffed animals in his mouth, indoors and out, in order, I suppose to tell the world he had great fathering instincts.

The smaller bear, Squeezy, I bought for myself right after Paul passed away.  He was my comfort, rock, and has been covered in tears.  He has a red winter scarf around his neck.  We slept together.

Anyway, after Burgie passed away I could not bring myself to get rid of his bear, and I put him in the washer and dryer and was so pleased to see Burgie Bear come out of that ordeal a 'new' bear.  So, to keep them close, sat them on top of my jewelry box, on top of my chest of drawers.  Burgie bear, being so much larger spends his day hugging Squeezy.  We had a great arrangement.

Lately, however, I've been treating them quite badly, throwing them helter-skelter into the closet when people come to call.  Hence, the whispering in the closet.  I'm sure they are both very confused.  I know I would not like being thrown into a dark closet on some old lady's whim.

So this morning I sat them down to have a heart to heart.  I explained what's going on.  Promise to be more careful, placing, not throwing them into the closet when needed.  And re-assure them, I still love them dearly, and we are family, and Whither, I go, they too shall go.

I think they understand.  They are sitting on top of the chest of drawers, and Burgie is hugging Squeezy.  All is right in their world.