I am currently making a narrative film about this little stuffed bunny, and I marvel at how anything can take on life if you give it to it. When I was small, my stuffed animals were as alive to me as my siblings. I would tell myself stories about them, or rather, they would tell me stories about themselves.
Forgetting a stuffed animal in a parking lot is the ultimate betrayal. After your parents told you not to bring it and warned you that you would forget, the realization on the drive home that you left it behind is embarrassing, guilt-wracking, and heartbreaking. This bunny in the center of the photo, propped up on the car, is experiencing the other side of that story. She is alone and betrayed.