Greetings, all. My name is Susanna and it's very nice to meet you all! I've been hanging around this forum for a while as a guest and you all seem such lovely, genuine people that I decided I wanted to join the community. As yet I have no Pleo of my own, though I'm saving up for one for Christmas.
What I do have is a story of my experiences with my own precursor to the Pleo - and the reason I want one in the first place.
Eleven years ago, when I was nine years old, I was obsessed with dinosaurs. I still am today, but to less of a degree. Back then, dinosaurs were all I would talk about. On my ninth birthday my parents gave me a dark brown remote-controlled T-Rex. I adored this thing and named him 'Charles'. He actually bared a lot of resemblences to the Pleos - he had rubber skin that was disconcertingly realistic, his eyes moved in exactly the same way and though he didn't move or have a mind of his own, he developed quite a vibrant personality. And like the Pleos, I called him my 'prehistoric pet' and insisted on feeding him pretend meat alongside our cats. I'd even weigh him on the kitchen scales. And from then on, I would take him absolutely everywhere. He would always be tucked under my arm. The only time I would put him down would be if I was going to do something active like go on a climbing frame - when my parents would be left, rather embarrassingly clutching this dinosaur. The most hilarious thing that happened was that Charles was brought into Betty's, which is a very posh restaurant here in the UK. Mum and Dad were worried that we might get thrown out, but the staff thought it was hilarious. They gave Charles his own highchair and his own plate and napkin and piece of cake. I think we made their day!
Also like the Pleos, Charles was very fragile. There was one awful incident where he fell off a ladder we were making a dent out of. I discovered, to my horror, that he was limping on one heel and wouldn't move his neck properly. I was heartbroken. Fortunately Mum managed to massage the neck joints back into position, though he was never quite the same afterwards. His damaged leg still proved a problem, though. We took him to the caretaker, Malcolm, at our school, who very kindly said he would take a look. He sliced Charles' rubber skin down his middle to inspect the damage. The plastic 'bone' inside was snapped clean in half, so he attached a splint to hold it steady and glued the skin back in place.
A few years later, I got Charles a mate, who I named Diana. I still have both, sitting on a shelf above my bed. They're a bit dusty, but still cared for.
It was only recently that I discovered the magical Pleos and all the happy memories I had of Charles came flooding back. I hope that by Christmas, I may have one of my own to continue what Charles began. I hope you enjoyed my story - and I send a big hug to each and every one of your Pleos!
~Susanna
