I’ll never be like other people, but that’s alright, because I’m a bear. The man responsible for most of my first reading and the reason why my life has been dominated by bears of the plush variety has died. The name is Bond. Michael Bond. He wrote the Paddington books and filled my head with the very real possibility that animals were just as interesting as humans and probably a good deal more reasonable. The BBC TV animation was on constant repeat growing up so it became the go-to right before teatime every night and a few years ago there was a (thankfully) wonderful big screen interpretation. He also scripted The Herbs (remember Parsley the Lion?!) for the BBC, the place he had worked as cameraman for a number of years. He finally quit after a decade of successful book sales and created other protagonists for children and adults. His writing drew on his wartime experiences and his memories of his father, a terribly polite man who always wore a hat. No word on the marmalade though. My own sweet Paddington is quite posh, having arrived via Harrods. He was originally designed by Shirley Clarkson who made the toy for her son Jeremy. With the recent deaths of John Noakes, Brian Cant, and now Bond, it’s looking like I’ll finally have to draw a veil over my childhood. Perhaps. That little bear who remains a hopeful optimist is the best part of all of us. Rest in peace.