As I sit upright in my bed, I look around my room and see all the “Stuff”. At my age I feel there is so much emphasis placed on downsizing, getting rid of clutter and tidying up in order that my kids won’t have to go through my Stuff when I’m dead.

Research has shown that clutter causes anxiety and I don’t need any more of that. So, what is this Stuff in my room that I am referring to?

I see books, both read and unread, greeting cards, keepsakes from my kids and grandkids, empty boxes, and bins (for my anticipated decluttering event that will be taking place soon), pictures in frames of family but primarily grandkids and my dogs.

But mostly I see hippos.

Not real of course because real hippos do not make good house pets. There are stuffed hippos of all sizes and colors, hippos made from such material as porcelain, wood, plastic, marble, rubber, and silver. My collection includes hundreds of hippos but I’ve not taken official inventory.

My name is Rose Adams and I have OHD, obsessive hippo disorder

(officially because I have a tee shirt that says so).

It all began in 1980 when this fascination with one of Africa’s largest, most aggressive, and territorial mammals originated. Why you ask, would a 16-year-old girl become captivated with one of the most dangerous animals on the planet?

Young love. My first real boyfriend drove a navy blue 1967 Chevy Caprice Classic Sport Coupe was the instigation for this obsession. He called this prized vehicle of his” the hippo” due to its color and size. The car displayed a sticker of a hippo in a sailor suit on the back window. It was then that my collection originated.

My first hippo was a stuffed, all grey hippo. I later named him gramps due to the many generations that came after him. When my boyfriend enlisted in the navy a year later, we eventually parted ways but kept our relationship cordial. My affection for hippos stayed with me, symbolizing innocence of first love.

Over the past 45 years my hippo collection grew and now consists of ones I’ve purchased myself and many given as gifts. Some of the hippo items I have are not only cute but functional and can be found in many areas of my home. I have slippers and pajamas, tee shirts, socks and totes with hippos on them. In the kitchen I have cookie jars, cookie cutters, salt and pepper shakers, mugs and cups with hippos on them. In the bathroom I have framed hippo wall art, toothbrush holder and soap dish in the shape of a hippo and hippo bath towels. There are even hippos in the garden in the form of statues and planters.

During the Christmas season you can see the large light up hippo on my porch and several hippo Christmas ornaments on my tree. I have dancing and singing hippos, hippos for the dogs to play with and hippo coloring books and bath toys for the grandkids. My husband and I have traveled to Cincinnati Ohio to see Fiona the miracle hippo. She was born premature at 29 lbs and survived under the care of the zookeepers. Seeing Fiona was breathtaking!

The hippo is my kindred spirit, my personal mythology, the animal I most identify with. If I could live half in the water and half on land I would. The hippo has a fierce protectiveness over their loved ones, are sometimes unpredictable, and have the occasional outbursts of anger and aggression. I find that I too, have these traits. Coincidence? I think not.

Rose Adams is a life long resident of the Chippewa Valley. She attended Regis High School and CVTC. She spent 30+ years crunching numbers as an accountant and other than her high school English class, this is her first attempt at creative writing. Rose can be reached at rmadams7412@gmail.com.