Fugglebee

Ok, my heart is not entirely in this, but it is far overdue...

Born in a large hollow log, name since forgotten, we'll call him Fugglebee.

His parents, forgotten. His home, forgotten. I guess it's hard to write from the drooling thing's point of view, and there's a reason for that.

Fugglebee was born with a special gift. The gift of forgetting. We sometimes wish we could forget bad things that happen to us.
He can. He has. He does.

His parents were slaughtered by a sport-hunter. He forgot about their death. But he didn't forget where he lived at first. Then when he went back there were too many detached memories, so he decided to forget where he lived, too. And he did. So he wanders.

He has relationships, with what creatures, I am not inclined to write about, since I'm not even sure what he/it is myself. But they end poorly, so he forgets they happened. Through forgetting he is doomed to repeat the same mistakes, and he does. He's a sad little creature, but if you tell him that he'll forget. If you could forget, would you not take advantage of it? Would you live a life of blissful drooling ignorance? Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps...

There is one thing he'll never forget. He hates the perverted chicken. He is one of many nemesi, and would give his pathetic life to end the chicken's. But he forgot how to get to Maplewood, so he wanders...

There, done and done. Send me your mascot and your story, it's bound to be more interesting and cheery than this one.