My story began before this moment, of course. I was manufactured in China and quickly stuffed into this box. Within minutes I was stacked into another box, face-to-box, and sealed in.

We traveled in semi trucks and cargo containers, spending long periods motionless until there was noise and action and then silence again. Months passed. Then one day my box was unpacked and I looked into the eyes of a Target employee, who placed me on this high shelf in a store I later learned was in Iowa, in the United States.

It was here where she saw me yesterday. She took me down, smiled, fluffed my fur, and put me back, choosing another. But this afternoon she came back, took me down, and smiled again, this time escorting me through the cash wrap and showing me daylight, glorious daylight.

Once inside her car, she removed me from the box. My goodness, friends, after ages and ages in that box, you have no idea how good it felt to have my fur fluffed. I was stiff, of course — stiff! But I was finally free.

And do you know what that dear girl’s first action was after welcoming me to her life? She unpacked a McDonald’s cheeseburger and fries right there and handed it over to me. My first meal — my first American meal! I didn’t even realize how starved I was until those fries hit my mouth. I munched down those glorious, salty sticks and the girl brushed the salt from my chin fur. My stomach is small so I shared my leftovers, and the girl seemed so happy to finish them off as she drove us out of the parking lot.

Once at my new home, things took a weird turn. The girl put her nose to my head and said I smelt like store, and asked if I’d like to clean up. I said sure, yes, I had never bathed before and that sounded wonderful. So she showed me into the bathroom, put me next to the tub, and filled it with water. At first I felt self-conscious without my shirt, but I got over it quickly, and then after the bath I felt so fluffy and free.

And then the best part, the part where I knew that I had landed with a good person who knew how to take care of me. The girl got a mug from the freezer and poured me a cold beer. A beer! How many other Fugglers can say they got a beer on their first day of adopted life? I mean, some of them never get out of their boxes, I’m told! And I got a frothy Rebel Kent Amber Ale from 3 Sheeps Brewing — a craft beer, nonetheless.

I think something magical may have just happened.