This Little Piggy Cried "Wee Wee Wee"

Last night I was out and about running errands, and the flyer below -- which was taped to the side of a newspaper-vending machine near a big neighborhood gym -- caught my eye.



I loved the "No, I'm not kidding" part. Immediately I pictured poor "Brian" to be a distraught father whose kid had misplaced his/her favorite stuffed animal... and now his entire household was suffering as a result. Crying fits, sleepless nights, and inconsolable grief are all Brian's to deal with until this situation is remedied. I mean, a $100 reward for something that clearly didn't even cost that much in the first place says to me that this guy is SERIOUS. He needs this toy back, dammit!

It reminded me of a time when I was young -- not sure how young, but I know I was still in elementary school -- when my beloved owl stuffed animal went missing after a sleepover my class (or maybe it was my Brownie (young Girl Scouts) troop?) had at a museum. My family and I were pretty sure that another little girl I knew had swiped my owl. Anyway, I was extremely upset by this, because -- as the Toy Story franchise has now proven -- I knew that my stuffed animals and toys actually came to life when no one was looking, and I couldn't bear the thought of my owl not being with her rightful family. (I don't think my owl was meant to be the one from the Winnie the Pooh crew, but if it was then that's doubly strange, considering the current "lost Piglet" situation. Maybe Pooh-related toys have a higher risk of being stolen? Somebody look into this, please.)

My parents and aunt went so far as to buy another owl stuff animal, make it look like someone had cut part of the fluffs of hair by its ears (this was to keep me from doubting that it was really MY owl), and then write an apologetic note from the anonymous thief. The note and the owl were left in a box on our front porch. In my heart I always knew it wasn't my owl, but back then I think I let myself believe that it was just so I could make peace with the situation. Recently on Facebook I have reconnected with the person I believe really stole the owl (no, I never confronted her), so clearly I'm over it. I think. I bet my mom and aunt would still like to read her the riot act, though!

I sincerely hope that Brian finds his kid's Piglet and is saved from concocting a far-fetched story to accompany its replacement. He's obviously a great dad, so I'm positive he's going to do whatever it takes to make his kid feel better. Let's hope this particular little piggy does indeed find his way home.