My British Grandma sent me my very first Spring.
I called him Spring because he looked like a giant spring roll.
Since then I’ve had lots of Springs. You see, if I’m not careful I can eat Spring to death. His stuffing comes out and he has to be thrown away.
My latest Spring is pink and comes from America. He’s my favourite toy. His head and bum both squeak.
I like my persons to throw Spring around so I can chase after him. And sometimes I try to take him outside into the snows.
Other times I just like to hang out with Pink Spring.