After the flood, there were hundreds and hundreds of teddy bears and dolls strewn all over New Orleans, forever damp-looking and traumatically abandoned, left behind to die. This is the feeling that I got everytime I saw one, and I am not the only one. There is something exceptionally freakish about seeing these beloved animals dirty and alone in the gutters of our torn city. My friend and fellow bleeding heart,
Miranda had one on the passengers side of her car one day and when I asked her about it, she said (polite depiction) that it had been face down in a gutter, as if the cast off of a violent sex crime....
The idea of the violation is dead-on. I don't know why, but it is. I have since seen dump trucks with tens of these poor creatures shoved into every safe nook and cranny on the vehicle, as if the trash is not appropriate for these creatures that definitely had the life of personality breathed into them by some loving child.
One illustration of a soft spot on the underbelly of New Orleans.
Mid city trash pile
By the way, happy belated Valentine's day.
