Billy started out as a very nice piece of distressed mohair. His pieces
were cut our and then the electric shaver came out. I saved the fur to half it's length,
or less in places. I then grabbed the tweezers and plucked out the fur that would be in
his muzzle area. That done, I sewed him together (quite easily, I might add, with all that
fur gone). I omitted the use of a fray check in hopes that some of the seams would fray.
When all the pieces of Billy were sewn, stuffed and assembled together, I then wen to work
at really distressing him. I grabbed a used coffee filter that had sat for a couple days
and smooshed it all over his body. I then grabbed a tea bag (raspberry tea, no doubt) and
smooshed it all over him. In the process, I managed to break open the coffee filter and
got coffee grounds all over him (gross!!) so I gave him a quick rinse and put him outside
to dry. Of course the fact that it was raining at the time didn't occur to me as an
obstacle in his drying process. So there I was calmly watching TV waiting for my bear to
dry on the deck when I heard a sound......... that unmistakable sound of Ravens. If you
live in an area that has many ravens, you will know what I am talking about. Great,
I thought, the ravens will thinks he's food and pick at him. I can't bear to poke holes in
him myself, but if the ravens do it........ will that's just fine.
Well, the ravens chickened out. Not a one actually touched my poor
bear. Not even good enough for the ravens. How's that for a complex.
Well, he finally dried and I took him back inside. I took out the
tweezers again and madly & blindly started plucking fur. All the seams were attacked.
not a single part of him was spared, well except for the top of his head. I just felt he
needed that little mop-on-top.
Still not good enough.
THE CAT, the cat will tear him apart, I just know he will!!!!! I sat
my proudly in front of the cat. Now, the cat was taught at a very early age that stuffed
creatures were not for the plying with. I used to have a very extensive collection of
Beanie Babies. I used to have them displayed on my shelves of my bookcase. (They now live
in an airtight container beneath my bed) When the cat was very young, he often tried to
play with my Beanie Baby collection. I broke him of the habit. Maybe I did too good a
job.There was no way he was going to touch this bear, let alone tear him to pieces.
So I got out the catnip.... Ah the catnip, the ultimate secrete weapon against the
cat. I rolled the bear in this wonderful kitty stimulant. I placed him proudly in
front of the cat and......... the cat walked away. I grabbed more catnip and
placed IT in front of the cat and he was very happy to roll and enjoy his favorite
drug. I placed the catnipped laced bear in front of my loving kitty and ......... he
walked away.
If you can't depend on your cat, who can you depend on? ME!!!!
I grabbed a length of upholstery thread and went outside.
Do you know how good it feels to kick a bear you just created? Try kicking, stomping on
and then slamming your little creation into the sharp gravel driveway. Man I felt good!!!
Not good enough.
I got out that upholstery thread I brought with me, and I tied it around the little guy's
belly. I got into my vehicle, rolled down the window, tossed the bear on the ground, hug
onto a short length of thread and backed out of the driveway.
YES I drove around the block dragging the little guy behind me. Little children stopped
and stared. Maybe this is what happens to toys the leave on my lawn. I realized I was
driving too fast because my bear was flying behind me like a kite. Oops here comes a
pile of gravel. I'll swerve closer to it and slow down even more so I can make sure the
bear has been dragged through it. |
I got back home, cut the thread off him ( it had tightened quite a bit while he had been
dragged like an old boot behind my car) and took him inside.
Still not enough.
This voice inside my brain was getting annoying. Shaved, plucked, drowned in old, used
& stinky coffee grounds, plucked some more and then dragged behind a car. If he
wasn't old looking after that, then he would never be.
Of course the little trooper that he is, after all his abuse, Billy only looks a bit dirty
and tired. But still happy and very cute.
Maybe antiquing just isn't my Schick.