Sue Thornquist
Everyone knows the magic of Charlotte and Wilbur, Charlie Brown and Snoopy, Dorothy and Toto. But, our daughter Dana and her Rah-rah were our pair.
No one remembers exactly where my parents got the all-white, furry soft, polar bear hand puppet, but they brought it back from one of their trips along with a striped raccoon puppet for sister Jordan. Maybe from the Scandinavian trip they took around Dana’s first birthday. But everyone remembers how much Dana adored Rah-rah, named for the sound someone made when they first waved it in front of her--the sound she used to give voice to her new pal.
They were inseparable. Pictures captured Dana clutching Rah-rah, dragging him to mealtimes, to the zoo, to play dress-up, to bed, everywhere. And one day to McDonald’s PlayPlace after which, inconceivably, we returned home without Rah-rah. Most likely swallowed by the ball pit.
Dana was heartbroken. Me too, her first experience with loss. But we managed to transfer her affections onto an orange-striped tiger she named literally. “Tiger’s” claim to fame was a tummy that when squeezed produced a low, purr-like growl. Unfortunately, several years later, Tiger never got off the airplane when we returned from Disney. We could keep track of our children; clearly not so great with stuffed animals. Fortunately, Tiger had a white-striped growly brother that Jordan had outgrown. He resides among Dana’s childhood treasures.
Though Dana was loyal, she had ample love to share--traits she possesses to this day. Perhaps a polar bear and two tigers played a part. Hur-RAH!