18th January 1999
I'm not in Kansas any more!
However, you'll be happy to know that I managed to dodge quarantine successfully and reported for my furst day of basic training at Da Lair early this morning.
Very early this morning actually.......
.......too early in fact.
The postman knocked on the door and - after a bit of a wait and lot of naughty words - it was finally answered by Godzilla (they told me afterwards that Mommi always looks like this first thing on a Monday morning).
After that last meal you fed me of baked beans, curry, coffee, Becks, chili, bran-flakes, cabbage and that odd-tasting chocolate, you can imagine that I was rather looking forward to getting out of the box in which I'd spent two weeks travelling. However, Mommi kept shaking it and turning it over (which is when I remembered that you'd also fed me a large fried breakfast before I set off) and I could hear her asking the other Bearz if they could hear any ticking.
In the end Barney decided that he might be able to listen to the box better if there were a few holes in it. Whilst I would have appreciated airholes in transit, punching them into the box when I was still in it wasn't such a good idea.
However Barney tells me that the bruises will fade with time and I've apologised for the jaw lock I got on his paw when he finally broke through.
Anyway Mommi did finally open the box, and introduced me to the rest of the hug. They all seemed very impressed by the fact that I am made from the pelt of a goat - it seems that I am the furst hugster made from real fur! Mommi was quite relived that I am nevertheless politically correct since the previous owner of the hide met a peaceful end and the Fellas made me feel very welcome by offering me a place in their next football game. Apparently they recently lost their leather ball and......well, I'll do anything to fit in.
Oddly enough the biggest problem was my name. Nobody could think of one. I tried to tell them that it was on a label attached to my butt, however as I'd only just arrived from Peru (via a brief stay in New Mexico), my English wasn't too good at that point and the only phrases I knew were "1...2...3" and "Here Lizard Lizard Lizard" (which I learnt from that dog in the corner).
Since I'm a raw recruit Mommi decided that it was dangerous to leave me in Da Lair (especially since by that time Barney was happily pulling on his football kit) and so I went to work with her and the rest of the 'chain gang'. These are a group of Bearz who got busted for sock-napping last year and are doing community service as a punishment. They presently have a small business that provides stealth hugging services for exceptionally depressed office workers. I don't know if the hugging really helps but I noticed that everyone they visited looked a lot happier when Da Bearz had left.....
I just tagged along and everyone we visited had a fun time stroking me (I quite enjoyed it too). A few even commented on the green ribbon around my neck and wondered why you didn't replace it with a purple one (to match your hair I guess).
Still, life's pretty good when you're made from deceased fur. Only the problem of my name remains. When one of our 'clients' heard that I came from darkest Peru he suggested that I might be Paddington Bear's great-aunt Lucy. Me???? A GIRL????? Fat chance!!!! And anyway there's only so many marmalade sandwiches a bear can eat y'know?
I guess I'll have to keep repeating that my name is written on the label attached to my butt.
I hope they get the idea soon
Your loving emissary
Al Paca
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