#sheep of Theseus

[blergeatkitty]

[Edit: I really wish I could figured out what company manufactured him, but I’ve had zero luck so far, I guess it’ll remain a mystery]

This is Memeio (pronounced Meh-Meh-yo).

I just realized this little guy, who I got around the time I was 2 or so, is 50 years old.

He’s in remarkable shape, considering the abuse young toddler-me put him through.

When we first met, he had a music box in him.

Apparently even at an early age I was a harsh music critic as I took such an instant dislike to the music box that I held Memeio by the ears with my little hands and bashed him repeatedly against the wall until the box quit its noise and shut up and died.

I have no idea what the melody was. Probably something insipid and predictable like “Mary Had a Little Lamb”.

Anyway somehow, even with all the abuse toddler-me put him through, he managed to survive.

Well, no. Not somehow. Thankfully my grandmother and my mother were able to perform repairs as necessary.

Although, as it was explained to me, the first thing they did was perform a musicboxectomy to remove the offfending and now-defunct musical metal mechanism.

Over time, there were rips and tears. They were sewn up.

The stuffing was eventually replaced. I’m pretty sure if I opened the little guy up I’d find balled up nylon stockings (I seem to recall my mother telling me about that once).

Of course the terrycloth skin had been patched so often and worn down and re-patched and worn down again from so much hugging and lugging (I took him everywhere, we were inseparable, and the one time I left him somewhere when my parents were traveling and we had to drive back to get him I am reminded of the Calvin and Hobbes comic that captures my desolation and despair so perfectly) that his entire outer shell had been replaced multiple times before I was able to be gentle enough that he kept his final form.

I have a vivid memory of crying a stream of hot, heartbroken tears when his little eyes fell off at one point. My mom replaced them with dark, velvety new ones while I watched the surgical procedure as if it were a life-or-death medical drama (well, for me it was).

Even the little red outline of his mouth was new (since his “skin” had been replaced multiple times.

And I’ve loved the little bastard so damn much I kept him my entire life. He’s been with me FIFTY YEARS.

And I still put him up high on a shelf in my bedroom so he has a good view and can see the whole room and I say “Hello” to him whenever I see him and give him a little pat and he’s up there on the shelf with other old stuffies so he has company.

And I know there’s not a single piece of the original toy remaining, but our emotional connection is strong and unbroken and goes deeper than all that.

In fact, I’m writing about this tonight because it only just occurred to me that this is quite possibly the most personal and intimate example of that famous thought experiment that I can possibly think of.

I refer, of course, to the Sheep of Theseus.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

Goodnight.

[hypnopabinia]

"If you take a herd of livestock and gradually replace each individual animal with another one of its kind until they are all replaced, is it still the same herd?"

"Ah yes. The Sheep of Theseus."