Grandad’s surgery

Hubby is my hero.
He is also pretty good with a needle, so it comes as no surprise that he is responsible for Grandad’s makeover.
Digital CameraThe pilot in this picture is Rembrandt (but that’s another story).
Grandad is my bear, the keeper of my childhood secrets, a bear that is just a few months younger than I, a bear I would not have had his predecessor not been stolen off my pram when I was a baby.

Grandad has not been well.
His sense of smell had gone for a bucket of chalk, and his chin was sporting whiskers that fell out by themselves without shaving.
But the main concern was for his hands and feet, which are showing their age.
There are no liver spots as the original leather pads have disintegrated, and my mother’s caring darns of yesteryear are hardly holding them together now.
Digital Camera

Digital Camera Digital Camera Digital Camera

Yesterday, we purchased felt and silks, and Hubby worked his magic.

The top picture in the above sequence shows Grandad sporting a new nose and repaired chin which Hubby did last night.

Grandad was very brave and didn’t cry out once whilst the cosmetic surgery was taking place. He suffered the indignity of being upside down whilst prodded and poked with a needle and thread, shuddered as rotten fabric was cut away to give him extra stuffing support in his left wrist, and winced as he was squeezed and manipulated into shape.
The material on his arms has also started to rot away, so Grandad has dual functional paddypaws that double up as mittens.

This is how he looks now:

Digital Camera Digital Camera

I can explain the pants.
They date back to around 1962 when my Great Grandmother visited and made my sister and I new frocks. To protect my bear’s modesty (he also used to wear a purple net tutu, another of Gran’s creations originally being a petticoat), she made them for him out of one of the scraps.

We can’t do anything about his baldness, but we can buy him a little romper suit to keep him warm.

Dr Hubby is a miracle worker.
(Thanks, Love).


About pensitivity101

I am a retired number cruncher with a vivid imagination and wacky sense of humour which extends to short stories and poetry. I love to cook and am a bit of a dog whisperer as I get on better with them than people sometimes! In November 2020, we lost our beloved Maggie who adopted us as a 7 week old pup in March 2005. We decided to have a photo put on canvas as we had for her predecessor Barney. We now have three pictures of our fur babies on the wall as we found a snapshot of Kizzy, my GSD when Hubby and I first met so had hers done too. On February 24th 2022 we were blessed to find Maya, a 13 week old GSD pup who has made her own place in our hearts. You can follow our training methods, photos and her growth in my blog posts. From 2014 to 2017 'Home' was a 41 foot narrow boat where we made strong friendships both on and off the water. We were close to nature enjoying swan and duck families for neighbours, and it was a fascinating chapter in our lives. We now reside in a small bungalow on the Lincolnshire coast where we have forged new friendships and interests.
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21 Responses to Grandad’s surgery

  1. colinandray says:

    That is one very happy, and clearly loved, bear! (And I bet he’s the best listener one could ever have) 🙂

    • As a kid, he was my best friend. My sister’s bear wore out in the 60s and I can’t remember if it was Gran or Mum that gave him a completely new skin. It was bright blue, but I don’t think she has him anymore.

      • colinandray says:

        My eldest sister (UK) passed away many years ago and left a note that all her bears (lots!) were to come and live with me here (Canada). They each came with a little note covering their history and a brief description so that I knew who was who! They are still here!

      • So sorry for your loss, but you have her bears. How wonderful.
        We had to split our Hug and kept only a few. I have regrets about one we gave away, but we couldn’t keep them all. One sack full of some of our favourites was given to a guy with a two year old son who loved teddy bears. I hope Ralph (our biggest) and the guys are looking after him OK.

  2. Wow. That is pure and undying love. On both your part to the bear, and your husband’s toward you. Grandad is your velveteen rabbit, and one lucky fellow. Long may he live and prosper.

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  10. Aw! ❤ Granddad is a loved bear, that's clear! I had my childhood teddy until I moved this time. I may still have him somewhere, but I suspect he got thrown out when I wasn't looking. I'd have stopped them, even if he turned out to be mouse nibbled. Like Granddad, he was threadbare and worn, but I loved him dearly. I still have a vague memory of when he was brand new, still plush and smiling, his button eyes shining. And now I've got a bit of smoke in my eyes, so you'll have to excuse me. There's a sharp tug on the heart strings just now. Bless you and bless your hubby's nimble fingers!!

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