My mother has a menagerie of small stuffed toys that live on a trolley next to her chair, plus three that she has on her bed. We've always talked to our dolls and toys in our family. I think the reasoning is that if you love a toy and cuddle and talk to it then it develops a personality. In Margery Williams' book
The Velveteen Rabbit, the Skin Horse explains how a toy becomes Real:
http://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/1602074-the-velveteen-rabbit
MIL was never a soft toy person and when I suggested getting her a lifelike stuffed dog or cat she was scornful of the idea. This was when her cat died and she said how much she missed having something to talk to. She said she wouldn't want to talk to a toy, wouldn't enjoy stroking it, and would just keep being upset when she saw it and realised it wasn't 'real', i.e. alive.
When MIL went into hospital 6 months ago her daughter brought in a couple of stuffed toys that she had bought at the charity shop (knowing that they would probably have to be thrown away or boil washed, so no point in spending a lot of money). MIL was embarrassed with the toys, kept trying to give them away, and didn't like them. After a few weeks she started to carry one around with her in her hands, or tuck it inside her cardigan, or put it in her trousers pocket. In the 2 care homes she has been in since she seems to have developed much more comfort from the toys. She took a dislike to one of them so it was replaced by a couple of different ones, all quite cheaply from the charity shop.
She does get comfort from them but won't admit it and gets annoyed if unsuspecting people ask about their names or where they came from. How they heck would she know? She's never seen them before. One of the grandchildren must have left them behind. Here, take it away, do you want it?