Being Bing

"Jack wee-ed on Bing!"
"No!"
"Yes!"
"Wait... who's Bing?"

This is the conversation that took place after the horrible discovery of a wee stained Rescue Rabbit, called Bing. In case you were becoming slightly concerned as to why the act of Jack wee-ing on a Rescue Rabbit is the topic of such light heartedness, let me just point out that Bing is a stuffed rabbit. And when I say stuffed what I really mean is Teddy-Bear like toy, not roast rabbit stuffed with garlic, or a dead, but taxidermied, bunny.

I found Bing in a Mr. Price Home.  He was alone amongst shelves of garish baby toys, the only one of his kind left.  He was underneath a giant pink hippopotamus (no I am not joking), and looked slightly perturbed (as much as stuffed toys can look perturbed) at being beneath this giant pink hippopotamus.  I rescued him from this fluffy fate and studied him; he looks like a baby pig crossed with a bunny, or whatever the designer imagined a baby pig crossed with a bunny would look like.  But he is undeniably cute and ridiculously soft and cuddly to boot.  When I found him, his long droopy ear had started to come unstitched – he was definitely in need of a rescue.

Picture this; a twenty year old wondering around with a gorgeous little rabbit toy, begging her mommy if she could keep him.  I'm not saying that I did that... but picture it anyway.  Mom said sure, if I could get a discount on him.  I asked the not-so-friendly ladies at the till; they just looked at me blankly before refusing.  It seemed that Bing was to stay forever in that sad little shop.  However, they did check, and he was already on discount.  So it was that Bing came home with us. 

I stitched up Bing’s ear, and he had priority seating on my bed, his favourite place in the world.  Until that is the fateful wee incident.  Doreen had been away for a few days, which meant the house was in somewhat of a sorry state; it also meant that the animals were running rife throughout.  It was then I discovered that Bing had a spray of sickly yellow over his side.  Jack wee.  Needless to say the dogs were banished, and I decided, as Bing NEEDED a wash, that I would do all the cleaning for the day.  Ironically, just when I had finished everything, Doreen got back, ready to clean. 

Bing however, is newly clean and fluffy, he still has priority seating on my bed, and I'm pretty sure he bears his baby-pig-cross-bunny fangs at Jack every time he comes close.