I have become attached to some instruments over the years, but I try hard to remember they are tools and nothing else. It's the music, not the instrument that matters.
Well, they are also works of art themselves. I don't know how many people I've shown my beat-to-hell Rickenbacker to, who have immediately commented on how gorgeous it (still) is. That happened just the other day. It is an unsolicited comment and I get it a LOT.
To me, it is a mess of scratches and repairs, but I usually am looking at it from the backside.
They have different personalities. The Ric is my long-suffering friend, I've played more than any other bass, who sometimes just gets cranky on me but we love each other and she's good to me.
My Spector is my rock-solid reliable friend who is just a tad heavy on my back. She's never let me down, but I can't hold her up for very long without hurting my shoulders.
My maple finish Squier VMJ is my hands-down no-trouble-ever-at-all bass that I can drop into any situation and she does it all, perfectly. I would bronze her if it made sense -- an absolute dream performer, versatile as all get out, never complains never gets weird, never is the wrong bass to take at a gig.
My Squier VMJ Fretless is my challenge, my peak to climb, who is currently humming and crackilng and needs some technical work done, I think. Sounds tremendous, though.
They are all precious to me. I like to invest a lot of time into learning an instrument through and through, finding all of the quirks, all of the nuances, all of the colors. I'm forever changing around knobs and settings, adjusting string heights, tweaking this and that. The longer I play an instrument the more fluid I get on it. When I get a new one the old ones go on standby for awhile, but I always come back to 'em.