wilberforce mcgregor

I first met Wilberforce McGregor when he was delivered to my house on a winter's night in a bin bag. I learned soon afterwards that he had been delivered by motorbike, but, as nobody was home, he was deposited, in said bin bag, over the garden fence. This was not a great surprise as I had been expecting him.

WIlberforce was a present from friends who had found him abandoned in a tree in the grounds of a hospital where they worked. (By the way, did I say he's a teddy bear?) They took him in, washed him, and gave him cuddle therapy, but he was pining for a house with children, so they brought him to us. He may not look like the sort of bear who climbs trees and rides a motorbike, but you can't always tell, can you, with bears.

He had many happy years of being climbed on, fallen off, slept on and snuggled into, but sadly, for at least a decade he has been gathering dust and leaking. Either his head was empty or his feet, depending on which way up you held him, and his white bits were grey. So last night I washed him and today I returned him to his former glory with love and stuffing.

No bears were harmed in this project. The operation was carried out under hypnosis. He is now plump andclean and only heeds minor surgery on one eye, which is falling out.

I'm now looking for ribbon in McGregor tartan.