Mr. Squeaky Chicken, rest in peace. You were such a faithful friend, even after I broke your squeaker and you became Mr. Squeakless Chicken. I loved you from the moment I met you, in the dog toy aisle at Target. Mario and Mom let me pick out a toy, and I swear you called - clucked or maybe crowed? - to me. Love can be painful. I am sorry that I loved you too much and caused your neck to tear. Irreparable damage. Thank you for being my trusted companion. Hey, Mom? Are you reading this? Can we please go to Target this weekend and get a replacement chicken?
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