Post by Wolfiebear on Jun 27, 2014 10:16:16 GMT -5
Hi, my name's Dáire, pronounced like Dara, but everyone calls me Irish bear, or sometimes just Irish. I'm made of mink fur and was made in 1982 by Rare Bear Inc. I wasn't manufactured there, but Rare Bear was based in Dublin, which is why they call me Irish. I was made at a time when the teddy bear collecting craze was coming back into popularity, and people started to realize that old bears were desirable rather than something to just toss in the atic or throw away. Several European companies started making bears in the style of antique bears, some made of mohair and jointed as the traditional teddies were, and some like me, of real fur. I don't think I was intended for kids to play with, but they still made me child-safe, I guess so if a kid got me I couldn't hurt them, which I'm glad of. I'd never be able to live with myself if I would have hurt a child.
I lived with a lady for my whole life who was a collector of bears and dolls, but she was of the school of thought that you need to keep your collection behind glass so they will maintain their monetary value. A word to plushie lovers, it's no fun. After all, you wouldn't want to be kept in a glass case, so whatever makes you think we do? If we weren't made to be hugged and loved, they wouldn't have made us so soft. Well perhaps they did make me for display, as they stuffed me pretty firmly, and it was hard for my lassie to figure out how to sleep with me without hurting herself.
Anyway, i digress. I don't remember a lot about that time in my life, as there wasn't a lot of stimulation. There were lovely dolls to talk to, I remember that, and I saw some of them again when I got here. Sadly, my previous caretaker passed away. After that her daughter brought us all to her house briefly while she tried to figure out what to do with all of us. We were quite a large family. One day I saw her packing a box full of dolls to be sent somewhere. The next thing I know I was placed in the box, very gently of course as the lady I stayed with was a real sweetheart, and then it was off to the post office and a long ride in a mail truck.
I was taken to the wrong house by mistake, so had to stay with some other people for the weekend, but Monday morning, June 23, was the best day of my life. I, along with all the dolls, was carried by a little boy to another house, and a lady stuk her hand in and pulled me out. She held me and hugged me, and it was like nothing I'd ever felt before. She did something she calls balling, which is where she buried her face in my fur and said BAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLL in a high-pitched voice, which is amazing. For all you bears, if you've never been balled, you should try it.
She tried not to get attached to me because she was planning to sell me on her Facebook page, but I found out she was in love with all things irish. Sure, didn't i lay on the brogue real thick? After that she still tried not to get too attached, but we bears have our ways. This makes me think, i wonder if trochera will teach me Gaelic. I knew I was hers when she took my tags off. I'm still seizing her of course. She's barely put me down since I've come to her. I'm not complaining. It's altogether brilliant, if you'll pardon the Irish expression. My lassie likes when I do that.
I lived with a lady for my whole life who was a collector of bears and dolls, but she was of the school of thought that you need to keep your collection behind glass so they will maintain their monetary value. A word to plushie lovers, it's no fun. After all, you wouldn't want to be kept in a glass case, so whatever makes you think we do? If we weren't made to be hugged and loved, they wouldn't have made us so soft. Well perhaps they did make me for display, as they stuffed me pretty firmly, and it was hard for my lassie to figure out how to sleep with me without hurting herself.
Anyway, i digress. I don't remember a lot about that time in my life, as there wasn't a lot of stimulation. There were lovely dolls to talk to, I remember that, and I saw some of them again when I got here. Sadly, my previous caretaker passed away. After that her daughter brought us all to her house briefly while she tried to figure out what to do with all of us. We were quite a large family. One day I saw her packing a box full of dolls to be sent somewhere. The next thing I know I was placed in the box, very gently of course as the lady I stayed with was a real sweetheart, and then it was off to the post office and a long ride in a mail truck.
I was taken to the wrong house by mistake, so had to stay with some other people for the weekend, but Monday morning, June 23, was the best day of my life. I, along with all the dolls, was carried by a little boy to another house, and a lady stuk her hand in and pulled me out. She held me and hugged me, and it was like nothing I'd ever felt before. She did something she calls balling, which is where she buried her face in my fur and said BAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLL in a high-pitched voice, which is amazing. For all you bears, if you've never been balled, you should try it.
She tried not to get attached to me because she was planning to sell me on her Facebook page, but I found out she was in love with all things irish. Sure, didn't i lay on the brogue real thick? After that she still tried not to get too attached, but we bears have our ways. This makes me think, i wonder if trochera will teach me Gaelic. I knew I was hers when she took my tags off. I'm still seizing her of course. She's barely put me down since I've come to her. I'm not complaining. It's altogether brilliant, if you'll pardon the Irish expression. My lassie likes when I do that.
