When Stuffed Animals Die

There is a serendipity to the internet. A happenstance clicking of a link only to stumble upon brilliance.

Whit Honea’s posting, “When Stuffed Animals Die” on his blog, Honea Express, is an awesome piece of writing I found only because I had clicked his profile page on “How to Be a Dad”.

The entire piece is epic in its imagery. Take this chunk as a teaser:

The dogs hadn’t chewed anything they shouldn’t in years, but the past few weeks had found them inside the house more often than not, and they had grown bored and weary. The various stuffed animals of the boys had become a means to burn energy and take out frustrations. At first it was a random rabbit here, a gruff old gorilla there — the fringes of a stuffed animal collection grown to an awkward abundance, and while I knew the dogs were in the wrong I was silently thankful for their natural thinning of the herd.

The boys took to placing their fiber-filled friends under beds, stuffed in closets, and behind doors that only thumbs could open. Then, when days passed with toys left unmolested, the closets became careless, the doors a little less shut, and through a house cold and empty the dogs would hunt.

Read the entirety of Whit’s post here, and check out the rest of his blog while you are at it. His prose and wisdom will certainly be an influence as I build upon my own little corner of the web.

  • http://www.whithonea.com Whit

    Thank you very much for your kind words and sharing my post. I really appreciate it!

    • dadsmake

      Whit, thanks for your writing! Your style is brilliant.