I’ve been here for 103 days. You know those strange weather weeks where you wear your jacket to school in the morning, but by midday it becomes way too warm to continue wearing one? Well, the jacket that you leave behind: that’s me. The Lost and Found is not a fun place to be, trust someone who has been here for a while. When my Wearer left me behind, I ended up squished among a tangle of other grubby, forgotten clothes. My color, a bright, inviting blue when my Wearer chose me, has become a dull navy with a rough inside. I remember my Wearer running with his friends, me flapping haphazardly around his skinny body until he decided that I was no longer worth the trouble, his adrenaline making up for the chill of the morning that was almost gone.  I was slung over a nearby fence and left. I saw my Wearer once, but the small, dingy stand in the corner of the school’s front office wasn’t enough to catch his eye. One day, he will find me. We had a connection, the day he picked me in the store. I was determined to stay where I was until I was found again. But, on my 104th day, I felt a sharp, insistent pull on my right sleeve. Suddenly, I was rudely yanked from my hanger and dragged down the hall. The receptionists apparently couldn’t see far enough down to apprehend this mangy, yellow dog that was stubbornly yanking me out the door. It held my sleeve stubbornly between its jaws as he trotted down the street. It felt like forever; my fabric accumulating dirt and filth from the streets as we continued on our journey. I had no idea what was going on, I just wanted to go back to my Wearer’s school to be claimed again. Eventually, we reached a small alcove between two buildings. I was nipped and tugged into a small puddle inside a long cardboard box, and without any warning, was jumped on by five small bodies, each one wiggling to burrow their way into my pockets and niches. These little puppies looked positively ecstatic to see me, this new toy that their mother had brought home. Visions of long rips and tears in my fabric began to flash in my mind and I grew fearful of these hyper bodies of fur. But soon I realized that was far from what the mother had brought me here for. All of the puppies found a suitable spot for themselves in my layers. They huddled together on my soft fabric, and if I could I would’ve wrapped my sleeves around them. Their little faces showed how grateful they were for my warmth and comfort. The mother curled up next to me and licked the corner of my hood to further cover one of her babies. I realized that even though these puppies weren’t who I was originally waiting for, I didn’t need a Wearer, who would come and go, I could just be what I was always meant to be: A comfort.