“Comfort from my Murphy Dog”

When I was 20-years-old and in college, I convinced my niece – she was 7 years old – to let me have one of her stuffed animals to take back with me. She loved them and owned over 30.

She allowed me to pick out the one I wanted. I chose a stuffed puppy dog – posed as though he was sleeping. Since Beverly Hills Cop & Eddie Murphy was a huge rave at the time, I named him “Murphy.”

Even today in 2014, I still sleep with Murphy. He occupies the vacant side of my bed. Some nights, I clutch him tightly as I drift off to sleep. I find comfort in knowing that he is there.

I loved Murphy Dog so deeply, that my niece actually crocheted a picture of him for me, which I framed.

Once, many years ago, one of my relatives hid him from me. They thought it was a joke. I panicked! I had become so reliant on Murphy for comfort and stability. I was nonchalant with my family…as though it didn’t matter. On the outside, I was smiling; on the inside, I was devastated. I literally “grieved” his absence. 

Then – each day got better. I finally reached a point that I could function without him. I had managed to “move beyond my lost” of Murphy.

He finally “appeared” a few weeks later. I was glad to have him back, but I wasn’t as obsessed anymore.

This quote came to mind:

“If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours. If they don't, they never were.” ― Kahlil Gibran

Poor Murphy has been with me through numerous moves, even one out-of-state. He has been there for me through great times. He has also allowed me to clutch him tightly during rough times, absorbing my tears.

As I look at Murphy Dog, 30 years later, as he still lies peacefully on my bed, I often wonder what he would say, if he could talk. It probably would be something like this:

“Oh, I pray to you, Dear Lord, that you present this lady the HUSBAND that she so deserves. I think it is time for me to move on…”

Well, Murphy…until then…it’s just you and me… J