I got the inspiration for this photo from a BBC story about teddies. I reckon my “Big Ted” is the same as Paula’s “Big Ted”. From the photo of her I’d say she’s a contemporary of mine and that her Ted is a Wendy Boston teddy like mine.

I was given him for my first christmas and he’s been loved almost to the point of extinction since, hence his threadbare appearance. He looks pretty sorry for himself now but he looked a lot worse a few years back – then he was not only threadbare but flattened too where his innards had been squashed flat by my strange habit of sleeping with him under the crook of my neck. I slept like that for my whole life until I got married when I felt that it would probably be considered beyond the pale to continue this slightly odd practice.

My Mum took him home one day, carefully unpicked the soles of his feet, pulled out the stuffing, washed his carcass and then re-stuffed him with new filling material and sewed his feet back on. I got back a bear that looked positively new compared to what she took away.

He’s got a few battle scars. I had a nosebleed on his fur so he’s got a small but bloody stain. He’s also got a tiny hole in one of his legs where “Big Bun” (my rabbit) took a shine to him and nipped his fur. Obviously though, the fact that he’s got almost no fur left on his front is my worst legacy to him. We've certainly been through a lot together!

Whenever I’m in trouble, it’s always Big Ted I turn to. He provides the best comfort and the wisest council. He’s my friend and ally when the world is conspiring against me. When I was ill a few years back, I was advised by my psychologist to lean on him again for my comfort but this turn of events horrified my Mum who was concerned for the long-term safety of my Big Ted given his frail condition. She suggested I leave Big Ted sitting on the blanket box and bought me a “Comfort Bunny” to cuddle. I have taken her good advice and only turn to Big Ted now when the comfort I need is beyond that which I can achieve from Comfort Bunny.

Wendy Boston bears are iconic. The story of their invention and subsequent rise to fame is well-documented elsewhere so I’ll simply say that they deserve their status. Mine has been in the washing machine many, many times although in future a quick sponge down is all he’ll be getting. He’s a bit too fragile now for such brutal hygiene routines.

My Big Ted was rescued by my ever-vigilant Mum from the brink of being loved to death by me. She knew that reviving his fortunes would also revive her “little girl’s” spirits. Today I need my Big Ted. He’s the only one who can lift my spirits so I will allow myself a rare and precious cuddle with him. I need to be careful not to love him to death again. You never know when an emergency cuddle might be needed again.