I carried it around everyday. It went with me up the stairs, down the stairs, outside, and to wherever my parents would take me, literally everywhere. I cannot remember my reaction receiving this object, but I truly loved it. It not only made my day, but it made my first birthday. It was the last present I tried to open. There it was, Simba, the one cartoon animal I loved and wanted.
Simba was the perfect size for me. Just right for a tiny little girl. He was about the size of a normal cat. He was fat n cuddly. Smooth like babies skin for the first touch. He was the best thing I have ever seen or felt; he was just all around the greatest present ever. Nothing could ever compare to Simba.
As I grew older I continued to watch The Lion King. It almost became a necessity in order for me to go through the day. And of course Simba would be sitting there watching it with me. The older I got the more I could do with him. We played all sorts of games together. Simba was like my new best friend.
I can remember my parents bought me a doll, but I didn’t like it. The doll was not the same as him. I refused to play with the doll; I would only play with him. I used to dress Simba up in clothes and laugh because we looked so silly in human clothes. The more and more I played with him; the more and more I became attached.
I loved my parents for buying me him. But then one day I cried. We had two dogs, one named coco, and the other named max. Coco loved playing with all us and protecting us. He was a good dog. Max, on the other hand, was more of a lazy, laid back dog.
I was gone one afternoon and I came home, and my whole family was downstairs with the dogs. I went to my room to find Simba, and he was gone. I was so confused on what happened to him. I knew he was in my room, I could never forget where I put him. So then I walked back downstairs to ask my parents where he was.
There he was, in his mouth, that monster had my Simba. Coco was playing him just like he was...