If Canberra was to hold a popularity contest seeking a local rival to Taylor Swift, the winner would be stuffed.
Also fluffy, grey, big-eared and speak with a gravelly voice.
Constable Kenny Koala has been an ACT institution for around 50 years, the brainchild of a police chief who requested the first version be sewn together - and you can't make this stuff up - from a white bath mat.
But very soon, another chapter will close in the long-running Constable Kenny storyline.
And a new one will open, perhaps with a gender change.
David Packwood, who has been Kenny's "handler" for the last seven-and-a-half years, is handing on the popular puppet and with it, a very unique Canberra legacy which has - by best estimates - delivered safety messages to 191,000 Canberra children.
Only two people - Mr Packwood and his long-serving predecessor, Stewie Waters - have had their hand up the puppet for the past 22 years.
And when Mr Packwood - or just "Packy", as he is known to thousands - finally withdraws from the sweaty felt, wriggles his fingers with relief and heads into retirement, it will be with the full expectation that the Constable Kenny program will go on just the same, even though the human face to it will change.
'Packy' had never expected to become Kenny's best mate; he had been on the media team at ACT police when the job fell vacant.
His predecessor, Stewie Waters, had been running the program for 15 years and had worn out himself, and a couple of uniformed puppets, in that time. He desperately needed a break.
"I was taken into a room by the police at Belconnen and sat down, the door was shut, and I'm thinking: 'Oh, this isn't good," Mr Packwood said.
"They told me they thought I would make a really good Kenny. At first I thought they meant Kenny, as in Shane Jacobson, the dunny cleaner from the movie.
"Then I realised they meant Constable Kenny Koala."
As fate would have it, he was perfect for the role.
"It may appear straightforward but there's a huge amount to learn in the program," he said.
"There's a defined structure for the presentations with core messages because Kenny's messages have to be consistent across every classroom.
"The way Kenny and I deliver the messaging might be slightly different because that's the nature of what we do; the sizes, ages and composition of the classes often vary.
"But the 'stay OK' messages are always the same: wearing seatbelts, taking care crossing the road, stranger danger, what to do if you are separated from your parents; these are all key elements to the presentation."
There's no such thing as a casual coffee in Braddon between classes; Mr Packwood and the puppet are recognised and stopped in the street by every second passerby, and usually each has their own Kenny story.
Like a seasoned pro - and clearly enjoying the interaction - Mr Packwood immediately and automatically slips into character, the puppet's banter working overtime.
If you were educated in the ACT in the past 40 years, there's a better-than-even chance one of the iterations of Kenny visited your school.
"I think I've let Kenny become an extension my personality," he said.
"But there's a real magic to it and I guess a lot of educators experience this, too; those times when the kids are just sitting there, spellbound.
"Getting in and out of school carparks is the worst because if the kids catch sight of me walking Kenny in and out, we get mobbed; it's like a mosh pit."
But the job also has taken its physical toll.
Delivering thousands of safety messages and fast quips with the puppet's mouth has resulted in one carpal tunnel surgery and now his "working" hand has a trigger finger issue.
But such is his dedication to the job that previous surgery and recovery time was scheduled during Christmas holidays so his wrist could heal and be ready for the next busy school term.
"That's just my nature, I hate letting people down; I didn't want the kids to miss out," he said.
"Every year we open bookings in November and I have to tell you: those schedules fill up faster than a Taylor Swift concert."