When I was a little girl, I had this big white stuffed poodle dog that I took everywhere, even to town. When my mother tried to wash some of the dirt off him, I cried next to the wash machine!
It was getting very worn and ratty looking, and wasn't so white anymore, so my parents gave me a new white poodle toy for my birthday, which I instantly loved also! But after I opened the gift, my mom said, "Well, I'll take this old one now and get rid of it since you have a nice new poodle." I flew into panic mode clutching my old poodle, yelling, "No, no! I'm keeping him too!" I think my parents were trying some type of psychology on me with the old dog/new dog trade, but it didn't work. I kept both stuffed toy dogs!
It's funny, I hardly ever think about the old toys anymore, but I sure miss my folks.