7 stages of moose

I have no idea how or why it started, but years ago my sisters thought it would be hilarious to give me the nickname of "Moose." It's taken me a long time to work through how I feel about it. Not unlike the 7 stages of grief:
   1. Shock/disbelief - " I can't believe they're calling me Moose...I'm shocked."
   2. Denial -"I am not Moose! No way are they calling me that!"
   3. Bargaining - "I promise to be nice to you if you'll just please stop calling me Moose!"
   4. Guilt - "what did I do to deserve this? Do I look like a moose? maybe it's because I smell   like one. Am I huge? it's my fault...I just know it is!"
   5. Anger - "STOP STOP STOP! I HATE IT WHEN YOU CALL ME MOOSE!"
   6. Depression - " I don't even want to see anybody anymore. They'll just keep calling me Moose and it hurts my feelings. I'm so depressed..."
   7. And finally...acceptance...

As you can see from the photographic evidence, I have come to the final stage of the process...acceptance. Not only have I come to accept it, I have embraced it. This is my collection of stuffed moose I keep on my bed. I love them. Especially the big guy, Martin the Moose. Marty, for short...

My Aunt had given this to my grandmother and I inherited it when my mother was going through her things while cleaning out my grandparent's house. He's very cute and I obviously know why I got him, but it wasn't until I found out how much grandma loved him, that I appreciated him even more. I LOVE that she loved it and that he's mine now. And I think of her every day as I carefully place him between the pillows after I make my bed.

 

*footnote*

I also have 2 moose Christmas ornaments, a pair of moose earrings and a shirt from Jackson Hole, Wyoming with a moose on it... I wear it with pride.