The first pandas arrived at the National Zoo in 1972. I was 1, and didn’t care. But when I was a little older and visiting my grandparents in Virginia, I was all about the bamboo loveys. I honestly don’t remember how old I was—probably too old for stuffed animals, but I requested one as my souvenir anyway. My grandmother, who had a thing about souvenirs matching the venue, was delighted I had asked for that and not for a new dress or a flowered umbrella or some other non-zoo-oriented item.

I loved the bejeezus out of that bear. His black ears pretty much faded to blue and his white fur turned a distinct shade of dirt-gray.

In time, my grandparents left Virginia, and our tourist outings involved other places. The zoo (and the Saturn V, and the Hope Diamond, and the ice cream parlor at the American History museum) were all happy memories, but firmly stuck in my past.

So it was kind of funny that I was living in Virginia when I got married and had a kid—and my old panda was one of his first stuffed animals, though not one he really played with. My panda got a buddy when the kid had an outing to the zoo with his dad and his uncle one day while I was at work, and he came home with an updated (and much plusher) stuffed bear.

We went to see them somewhat regularly when the kid was small. Unfortunately, he was too small and has no recollection of it. We went to Boo at the Zoo one year and had a great time. My memory of the zoo in those later days was that it was still a lot of fun to visit, but rather inconveniently located and that the walk to the Metro at the end of the day was a really tough uphill walk carrying a dead-weight toddler. (No, I don’t remember why I didn’t have a stroller. I think the point was to wear the kid out? We tended to overdo it a bit.) 

The new pandas are in DC until 2034. I am optimistic I’ll get back there for one more visit before I’m done traveling.