Wilbur

It's a long story. The summary is:

Five years old, I lost a precious, lifelike hedgehog broach from Switzerland whilst playing on a vast area of scrub land near a friend's house (that's another story). We spent ages in a hopeless quest looking for him. However, my hysteria didn't start until bathtime. I was inconsolable. “Where's Wilbur?“ Mum (or was it my detestable grandmother) bought me this little ceramic pig. I was fond of it but it wasn't a substitute for Wilbur. She's kept him all these years, recently delegating his care to the watchful eye of this tiny Greek peasant. I expect I will inherit the pig one day.