When Snuggle was just pushing his fresh scent, that was one thing. Sure, the girl didn't want to smell Snuggle's blanket—didn't want to put Snuggle's chemicals into her body—but Snuggle convinced her she would enjoy it, and once the girl tried it, there was no going back.

Letting a snuggly soft chemical-huffing pusher into our living rooms is bad enough, but Snuggles' snuggly success has gone to his head. Snuggle now not only rules the laundry room, Snuggle is smug about it. When a friendly but lonely and desperate porcupine wanders into the laundry room, he is quickly turned away. This is Snuggle territory; push your wares on some other block.

Snuggle has become so unbelievably rude. He doesn't console the porcupine, letting him know that perhaps in the backyard or garage, the porcupine's prickly sharpness might come in handy. No, instead, Snuggle gives the porcupine a grin and a self-pleasing "Buh-bye." How soon Snuggle has forgotten that he once too had to convince people of the wonder of his innate snuggly softness.

We should all heed the warning of Snuggle's gift; you may be the snuggliest and softest snuggly soft animal in the house and you might have the springest freshest spring fresh scent, but that doesn't give you the right to be rude to those less soft and less spring fresh. What will that same turned-out house wife say to Snuggle when her lawn is full of leaves? Remember this day, noble porcupine; remember this day.

If you have any questions about the site, please send us an email. or stop by our message board. Look for our next issue on July 12th. Thanks for coming back.