Robert said “Rupert arrived uninvited to my house – a first floor tenement flat in Bread Street, Edinburgh – at Christmas in 1949, when I was two months old. I don’t know where he came from: he arrived unexpectedly and never left. He rang the bell and when my dad opened the door, he looked left and right but could see no one. When Dad looked down, Rupert was standing there looking up at him and the little bear asked “Does Bobby Watson live here?”. When he was told “yes”, he walked between my dad’s legs into the flat, and climbed into my cot beside me. And that was the last time he ever spoke.
Rupert likes to stay at home. He left Edinburgh with me in 1957 and only returned recently, to go to the hospital in 2019. He came to the hospital to have some love and attention on his 70th birthday. He needed four new paw pads, two new eyes, a new nose and mouth, a new squeaker, some patches and seam repairs, as well as surface cleaning.
Rupert has been with my family for so long that I think of him as a member of the family. He was passed onto my children and will be passed onto future generations. My son is currently writing Rupert’s biography!”