Old Friends

 

Deep in the hundred acre wood where Christopher Robin played, you’ll find the enchanted neighborhood of Christopher’s childhood days. Visiting there now you will find it is still a fairly magical place full of wonder and awe. The trees haven’t changed much except to grow bigger over the years and the sunlight still shines through the foliage in beams of brilliance from on high. The floor of the forest is, as always, blanketed with a soft carpet of fallen leaves, evergreen needles and moss. No, the forest itself hasn’t changed much. The denizens however are another matter entirely.

“F-f-for the hundredth time Pooh, no! I don’t think he’s going to c-c-come back!” Piglet fairly shouted from his perch on his log.

“Are you absolutely sure? This is Christopher Robin we are talking about you know,” said Pooh in his ho-hum manner.

“Listen to me you y-y-yellow puff ball and try to get this through that thick h-h-h-ead of yours – it has been years, do you hear me? Years since we l-l-last saw him. He grew up and forgot about us. S-s-simple as that. He is NOT c-c-coming back.” Piglet slumped back on his log and rolled his eyes. “Not that I expect you’ll actually, f-f-f-finally, understand me this time.”

“Maybe you’re just not explaining it to me correctly,” ho-hummed Pooh. “Why don’t you get Owl to help?”

“Owl? R-r-really? He was old before Chris left us out here to f-f-fend for ourselves. He’s so old now he barely makes any sense at all and that’s assuming you c-c-can even wake him up!”

“But it still might be worth a try.” Pooh tried to roll to a standing position and failed. “Oh bother.”

“Fine, if it will m-m-ake you shut up about it we’ll go. N-n-eed some help there? I told you to lay off the honey. All you do is sit around and eat. Without anyone c-c-oming to play with you it’s taking its t-t-oll.”

After a few minutes of the diminutive Piglet trying to help the enormously fat Pooh to his feet the pair started off for Owl’s tree. While they were walking through a patch of bushes there was a rustling noise from one of them.

“I wonder what that could be?” inquired Pooh.

“Oh p-p-please. It’s Tigger. It’s always Tigger. Right here in this exact s-s-spot,” sight Piglet. “This is g-g-getting so annoying.”

From out of the bushes sprung a wild looking tiger. His fur was matted and he was covered in various places with mud, sticks, leaves and other bits of forest detritus. He was not at all scary or intimidating. In point of fact he looked rather malnourished.

“Hoo Hoo Hoo Hoo!” screamed Tigger at the top of his lungs as he jumped out at them, landing on his tail and bouncing up and down. “Did I scare ya?”

“Oh yes!” exclaimed Pooh.

“Not in the l-l-least,” said Piglet.

“That’s ridikerus Piglet! I had to have scared ya! I’m a Tigger and scaring is what we do best!”

“It looks more like what you do b-b-best is bounce around through mud and garbage and then forget to t-t-take a bath,” murmured Piglet.

Ignoring Piglet’s comment Tigger asked them where they were headed. Once the duo filled him on their mission he decided he would go too.

“Oh g-g-goody,” said Piglet rolling his eyes.

They set off once again for Owl’s tree.

While they were walking Pooh bemoaned the fact that he missed Kanga and little Roo.

“Oh not this again? Look, they were k-k-kangaroos, they HAD to leave. There was literally n-n-nothing here in the Hundred Acre Wood for them to eat. What w-w-were they supposed to do, starve to death?

“Oh bother.”

“Hoo Hoo Hoo Hoo I miss little Roo too!” shouted Tigger at the top of his lungs while bouncing around them on his tail.

“Little? When they left he was t-t-too big to fit into Kanga’s pouch anymore!” yelled Piglet.

As they continued on their journey they turned around a corner of the path and came to an abrupt stop. There in front of them was the enormous rear end of a donkey, minus a tail.

“Oh dear,” Eeyore said turning around slowly. “I’m in your way. Don’t mind me. I’ve just lost my tail again. If I can’t find it soon I’ll probably just go sit quietly somewhere until I starve to death.”

“Oh bother!” exclaimed Pooh. “We can’t have that! We’ll help you find it. Won’t we fellows?”

“Of course! Helping find missing tails is what Tiggers do best!”

“No we certainly w-w-won’t help you!” stammered Piglet angrily. “You d-d-o this all the time and I’m g-g-getting really tired of it. W-w-we are already on a mission to help P-p-ooh with his problem and we don’t have time r-r-ight now to help you with yours. Especially since once we f-f-find your stupid tail you’re just g-g-going to lose it again like you always do.”

Eeyore looked at Piglet with his big round eyes and started to say something but he was cut off.

“Oh n-n-no you don’t. You are NOT guilting me into h-h-helping you so stop with the eyes. Have you g-g-gone to see someone yet about your d-d-depression like Owl said to? I can see by your f-f-ace that you haven’t.” Piglet rolled his eyes. “Why is it I am the only o-o-one who grew up in the last twenty years?”

‘I grew too,” said Pooh.

“I didn’t mean s-s-sideways!” said Piglet. Suddenly he had an idea. “Tigger can help Eeyore find his t-t-tail and then come find us when he’s d-d-done.”

“Hoo Hoo Hoo Hoo that’s a great idea! Come on Eeyore! Where did you see it last?” exclaimed Tigger bouncing around the forlorn donkey.

“Well I guess beggars can’t be choosers,” moaned Eeyore as he started off down the path with Tigger.

“L-l-let’s get going Pooh, before that idiot realizes we d-d-ditched him,” Piglet said grabbing Pooh by a pudgy arm and pulling him along.

A few minutes later the pair passed by Rabbit’s garden. As they got close Rabbit popped out of his hole and he shouted at them.

“Mind you stay off my property! Don’t you go messing up my garden!” He shook a fist at the pair as they walked by.

“It’s sad how p-p-paranoid he’s become over the years,” lamented Piglet.

“Yes,” said Pooh. “And he doesn’t trust anyone either.”

Piglet shook his head as they walked on.

They reached the base of Owl’s tree and Piglet got Pooh seated on a log as he was too large to climb to the top where Owl’s home was.

“You just sit h-h-here and I’ll see if Owl will come down. I’ll be r-r-right back.”

Piglet climbed to the top of the tree and knocked on Owl’s door.

“Yes? Yes? Do come in!

Piglet opened the door and entered Owl’s home surprised to find it in a state of complete disarray.

“Well? Well? What do you want?” demanded Owl looking him up and down.

“I’ve b-b-brought Pooh in the hopes that you can help m-m-me convince him that Christopher Robin isn’t coming back,” explained Piglet.

“Pooh? Pooh? Do I know a Pooh? And do I know you?” Owl flapped about the room raising a cloud of dust and molted feathers.

“Yes of c-c-course you know me! I’m Piglet! We’ve known each other f-f-for years! You’ve known P-p-pooh for a long time as well. Can you help me?”

“Help? Help? No. No. I cannot. Not today. Too busy. Go away.” Owl flapped his wings at Piglet.

Piglet sighed, closed the door and headed back downstairs to Pooh.

“Is he coming?” Pooh asked when Piglet arrived at the log at the base of the tree.

“N-n-no.”

“Oh bother.”

Piglet looked at his lifelong friend.

“But he d-d-did say that Christopher Robin might come b-b-back at any time. Let’s get you h-h-home old friend.”

The pair started off down the path toward Pooh’s house.

End.

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