I’ve only ever had the one bear, Edward. At 68 he was looking a bit disreputable, saggy as he’d been well loved and was short on straw stuffing, the stitching around his mouth and nose mostly gone. When DGS6 managed to unscrew one of his glass eyes, I had to act, though quotes for repairs were eye-watering.
I was lucky enough to spot a stall at a local fair full of handmade dolls and teddies, and the lovely young lady manning it agreed to give Edward a gentle renovation for £70. He now sits in the corner of the sofa, looking very proud of himself.