I never did.
My third-hand, home-made teddy with two different button-eyes
and darned dungarees called Dandy,
was good enough for me - nearly as good as a dog.
He is upstairs in my bedroom, together with Siegfried the Snake
knitted and stuffed by my aunt (as a draught-excluder).
He has resisted the moths for nearly a century, is entirely without spite,
and he has graciously permitted me to feature him in several Nature-Mortes
(this one dating from 1982, where he is on the right).