The Rescue: No Bear Left Behind!

"We just KNEW if we got it home, you would be able to tell us if it could be saved!" These were my husband's words as he handed me a plastic bag containing a small, dirty, bedraggled teddy bear.

It was Tuesday evening of last week. My husband had just returned from a backpacking trip in the wilds of northern Pennsylvania. In the middle of the wilderness, he came across a surprise find: this poor little bear.

"It was Little Bear's first rescue!" my husband said, referring to his little pal, a small black stuffed bear who travels with him on his adventures. Alex, my own small green stuffed alligator, also occasionally accompanies them on their trips.

He went on to explain that while they were hiking in the wilderness, they came across this bear, face down in the dirt. "Little Bear wouldn't leave another bear behind," he went on to explain; "he insisted that we bring it home, and Alex gets credit for an assist."

And so we surveyed the small bear together. It was rather dirty, but the situation didn't look too dire. I offered an optimistic prognosis: This bear will make it! And there was singing and dancing and rejoicing at such joyful news.

And so when wash day came, we gave the rescued bear a nice soak in some warm, soapy water, in a small pink tub. Dexter the Tabby, and Little Bear and Alex, watched with great interest and, to be honest, some level of concern. None of them have been soaked in water like this, but then again, none of them have ever been this dirty!

And so as they watched, I scrubbed the small bear down gently but firmly with a toothbrush, scrubbing away the dirt, even scrubbing behind its ears. A quick jaunt through the washer and then a warm tumble in the dryer set the little bear right as rain. We pulled it out of the dryer all warm and soft and sweet-smelling. Practically a new bear! Isn't it funny how a nice bath can do that?

There was one more thing left, though. A small tear along the rescued bear's neck revealed a trace of stuffings trying to come out. So they fretted and fumed and worried and stewed as they watched me get out the implements of repair: a scissors, some thread, a needle (gulp! a needle!).

I assured them it wouldn't feel a thing, and then I set about what turned out to be a quick and painless repair. And then: good as new! The rescued bear, all clean and warm and fluffy and freshly mended, took its place in the living room next to the others, where it will live out the rest of its days in comfort and friendship.