Star

My mom had a little Benji named "Kid," now gone to doggy heaven, but he was a good boy.

Mostly.

See, he had one problem. Let me explain.

One summer my brother and I were back in our hometown for something, and we were over at mom's. We were shooting the breezed when Kid dragged a teddy bear into the room, nosed it around until it was rump up, and then mounted it.

My mom sighed and said, "He always does that when I have guests."

My brother asked, "Why a teddy bear?"

Mom said she'd gotten it for one of our kids, but before she could send it, Kid found it and did what we were witnessing. She said after that, she didn't feel right about sending it, so it became Kid's.

For the record, he was fixed, so he never got the gold, as it were, but he usually pounded away for a good few minutes.

My brother inquired, "What's its name? Star?" ("Star" after a typical stripper's name.)

Mom laughed and thereafter the teddy was known as Star.

When we'd visit, Mom would invariably have to say, "Kid! Take Star in another room!" And sometimes he would.


Apparently, it's a common problem. (Mildly NSFW)