Currently adorning the coveted ‘right speaker’ position beside my computer, staring longingly into my pale blue eyes sits my monkey. A fusion of cute, cuddly and clever with a little cinnamon thrown in to flavour, my monkey occupies a significant position in my life. He is kind, gentle and caring, yet not beyond dishing out a certain amount of tough love when required – and it is for these traits that he is respected, cherished and loved.

So, why is he so special? How does he do it? How does he kick your collective arses?

My monkey is incontrovertibly cute. From his large, welcoming eyes to the tip of his polyester fibre tail, he 
simply exudes style, boyish good looks and sex appeal. Although being fabricated of arguably inanimate materials might at first appear a negative attribute, my monkey carries this curse-of-sorts in his stride – so much so that one often misses the thin line between his unwavering outside and metaphorical beating heart. As is so often the case, his whole is greater than the sum of his parts (grow up for <>’s sake). Yet such a make up facilitates other wondrous properties: not only is my monkey water-proof, he is clinically unable to gain weight or otherwise change appearance from his current state of perfection, and thus doesn’t spend any time whining to me about such things – so much more considerate towards me than say... everyone else?

My monkey has a penchant for Orwell,  but despises the work of Margaret Atwood

This characteristic is intrinsically linked with that of his low requirement for “maintenance”. He enjoys watching me drink coffee, yet never asks for his own; he doesn’t complain when I forget to pay him attention; and more importantly he doesn’t pass the afternoons away by constantly nagging me about trivial details (unlike … everybody else?). Clearly, my monkey endeavours in his life to undo the damage inflicted towards the entire human race by the rise of feminism (read that one here); our relationship is truly one-way, in that he is always giving with no expectation of receiving anything in return. In this manner, my monkey can be seen as a hero in his own rite – the light of us all in this dark time. 

Another significant characteristic, intelligence, is exemplified in my monkey. He truly is one of a kind – incredibly 
quick, clever, able to ‘think outside the box’ in order to solve problems, and has an enormous vocabulary – he is always on hand to provide me with that single word that is slipping my grasp, always in his own… um… what’s the word… IDIOM! As such, having him around is a great intellectual aid to me; we can bounce ideas off each other all night long, debating points to their superlative respective ends and both coming out better for it at the end, although every now and then I lose a bit of sleep, and occasionally people come into my room asking why I’m talking to my monkey. 

Related to this great intellect is my monkey’s amazing sense of humour. He really is quite the joker, turning the largest tragedies into the most comical situations imaginable. Just last night, he managed to pull off a very clever ‘George Bush’ joke – immeasurable talent is required to turn such a travesty into joke-form, yet there my monkey was, once more at the forefront of comedic work. One day he’ll be recognised for the great comedian that he is.

But there is one characteristic that my monkey possesses that sets him markedly above the rest of the stuffed-toy range – his great ability to care for people. He always understands, and never judges. He is indeed the only person (and I say ‘person’ with great conviction) who has yet to make comment upon my vibrant hair colouring – although this could be his being colour-blind rather than nice.

My monkey, hard at work 

Again derived from his amazing, astounding, enormous intellect is my monkey’s ability to learn quickly. For example, he very quickly taught himself how to use a keyboard – a skill that has served both of us very well. Given his fast typing combined with a large vocabulary, I often employ him to write webpage articles for me, and so far they have been absolutely, fantastically wonderful. As we think so alike, I trust him to present articles in the same manner as they would be presented were they indeed written by myself. He would never use any bias, or exploit my trust for self-aggrandising ends.

At the end of a long day, my monkey enjoys a good night's sleep