Ohhh man. Chicky. My sister was six years older than I was, and at my first Easter (I would've been less than a year old), she gave me this stuffed bird with a bell inside of it. It was big and fluffy and bright yellow. But other than photos, I have no memory of it as big and fluffy and yellow, for I basically never let go of it. It went wherever I did and quickly became threadbare and dull coloured. I will tell you, with that bell, I never snuck up on anyone. My aunt hated that bell and tried to get me to leave it alone whenever she babysat me haha...
Chicky, my creative name for her (or him? I don't know.) still resides in the closet of my old bedroom in my parents' house. I can't justify keeping it to my rational self, but everytime I happen to see it, there is a wave of nostalgia that prevents me from throwing it out.