Ten minutes later, as Jane cuddles me in her arms while we wait for her plane...
"Hi!" says a familiar voice, and Jane and I look up to see John, smiling at us, with Wooly, in my sweater, in his arms.
"Hi again!" Jane says.
"I'm really sorry," John says, "But I think you've got my little stuffed bull and I've got yours."
Jane looks from me to Wooly and back again. "Oh my," she exclaims. "Yes, yes we do! How did that happen?"
"I have a fairly good idea," John looks at me sternly; I busy myself looking at my hooves. "Sometimes Bully gets crazy plans in his head. C'mon, Bully. You two change your sweaters back so we don't hold up Miss Wiedlin any more."
Wooly and I sigh as we pull off our fuzzy sweaters and exchange them again while John and Jane talk for a few moments. "Well," he admits, "it was a good idea."
"Thanks," I say, shaking his hoof. "You take care of Miss Jane, 'kay?"
"Yeah! You take care of your guy. He seems really nice." We look up at them, shaking hands and smiling at each other. I guess our parent trap got sprung pretty early, didn't it?
We both wave goodbye as Jane Wiedlin and Wooly step through the door down onto the jetway, heading back home. I look up at John. "But how'd you know it wasn't me?" I asked him.
John smiled fondly at me and gave me a little hug. "Silly little Bully," he said. "Of course I know you out of millions. You're my little stuffed bull." He takes my hoof and together we head back towards our gate, towards our plane, back towards Brooklyn, towards home.
"But now you'll never see Jane Wiedlin again!" I lament. It would have been nice to see John with Jane Wiedlin as a girlfriend, I think.
"Uh huh," John nods. "Do you like apples, Bully?"
"Sure!" I exclaim, looking around. I didn't see any fruit stands or produce stores in the airport, however. "May I have a Golden Delicious?"
"Um, no. I was going to say that..."
"Or a Granny Smith! They are tart and tangy. Do you like Granny Smiths, John?"
"Stay on target, kiddo. You said I'd never see Jane again...?"
"Uh huh. What's that got to do with apples?"
John grins and holds out a piece of paper. "I got her number, Bully. How do you like those apples?"
My mouth is watering again. "I don't see any apples," I lament. "An' I'm gettin' pretty hungry!"
He laughs and squeezes my hoof hard. "Never mind, Bully. I'll buy you an apple for the plane, okay? So you really don't want to go home with Jane Wiedlin after all, then?"
I shook my head. "She's cute. And very perky. But...rather go home with you, John." I said, looking up at him. "You're my best pal."
"You too, Bully. You too."
So we went home.