The Case Of The Missing Tail: A Winnie-The-Pooh Sleep Story

THE CASE OF THE MISSING TAIL On a rather blustery morning in the Hundred Acre Wood,

Eeyore,

The old grey donkey,

Stood in his gloomy corner of the forest,

Looking more dejected than usual.

He swished,

Or rather tried to swish,

His tail,

But something felt conspicuously absent.

He turned his head and squinted,

Only to discover,

Quite to his lack of astonishment,

That his tail was missing.

Bother,

Said Eeyore,

Though saying it more in a tone of resigned acceptance than exasperation.

I suppose it's one of those days.

And so Eeyore decided he must share the news.

But how do you do it without making a fuss,

For fuss was not in Eeyore's nature.

His first stop was at Pooh's house.

Pooh was sitting comfortably,

Thinking about honey,

When Eeyore walked in.

Morning,

Pooh,

Mumbled Eeyore.

Hello,

Eeyore.

Would you like a small smackerel of honey,

Offered Pooh?

No,

Thank you,

Pooh.

I'm just here to say,

Not to alarm you or anything,

That my tail is missing.

It's gone.

Disappeared.

No longer attached to me.

Pooh looked puzzled.

Oh,

That's very odd.

Tails are generally quite reliable,

You know,

Yours especially.

Yes,

Well,

This one's gone on holiday,

It seems,

Said Eeyore.

And so Pooh made a mental note that Eeyore's tail was missing,

And Eeyore trudged on to the next house,

Which belonged to Piglet.

Piglet was a small and timid creature,

And he was always very glad to see his friends,

Particularly when they didn't come too suddenly.

Eeyore knocked politely on Piglet's door.

Come in,

Squeaked Piglet.

Morning,

Piglet.

Don't get up.

Just wanted to inform you that my tail has taken leave of its senses,

And me,

Just so you know.

Oh,

Dear,

That sounds serious,

Eeyore.

It's a tale,

Piglet.

Tales are serious.

After bidding Piglet a somber goodbye,

Eeyore made his way to Owl's house.

Owl was known for being wise,

You see,

Or at least for knowing how to spell difficult words like Tuesday and measles.

Ah,

Eeyore,

Who did Owl,

To what do I owe the pleasure?

My tail is missing,

Owl.

That's all I thought you should be informed.

A missing tail,

A serious matter indeed,

Declared Owl,

Though he couldn't quite figure out whether to look in a book or to offer Eeyore a cup of tea to solve the problem.

So having notified his friends in the most Eeyorish manner possible,

Our old donkey returned to his thistly corner of the forest,

Sat down and looked at the place where his tail used to be.

And as he sat there,

The others began to gather,

Each looking as concerned as one can look in a forest filled with honeypots and balloons.

I suppose they might be of some assistance,

Thought Eeyore,

Almost allowing himself the luxury of hope.

The friends of the Hundred Acre Wood had all congregated around Eeyore,

Their faces etched with consternation.

Kanga held Little Roo in her pouch,

And Piglet nervously tugged at his scarf.

Pooh scratched his head thoughtfully,

While Owl perched grandly on a low-hanging branch,

Eyeing everyone with sage-like profundity.

Now,

Then,

Began Pooh,

We must locate Eeyore's tail.

We can't have Eeyore walking around like a,

Um,

Tailless Eeyore,

Can we?

Clearly not,

Confirmed Kanga,

A donkey without a tail is like a pouch without a roo.

Roo giggled,

And even Eeyore managed a weary smile.

Very well,

Hooted Owl,

The most logical manner of conducting this investigation would be to proceed with meticulous deliberation,

One sector of the forest at a time,

You see.

Owl,

That sounds like a Tuesday word,

But if it means looking carefully,

Then— I'm all for it,

Said Pooh,

Nodding approvingly.

Piglet offered.

Maybe it got caught when Eeyore was eating thistles.

Or perhaps it wished to take a dip in the stream and got carried away,

Suggested Kanga.

All right,

Said Owl,

Fluffing his feathers,

Each of us shall examine a different section of the forest.

Reconvene here in one hour.

With a sense of determination that was rather uncharacteristic of the Hundred Acre Wood,

The friends dispersed.

Pooh and Piglet ventured towards the thistle patch,

Owl flew towards the stream,

And Kanga and Roo decided to check near the sandy pit.

Pooh and Piglet walked side by side,

Their eyes peeled for any signs of the missing tail.

Oh,

Look here,

Piglet,

Said Pooh,

Pointing to the ground.

There on the path were a few pieces of thread that resembled the colour of Eeyore's tail.

Is it—could it—could it be,

Stammered Piglet,

Looking from the threads to Pooh with large expectant eyes?

It might be,

Piglet,

It just might be,

Said Pooh.

They both looked at each other and giggled a little.

Meanwhile,

Owl had reached the stream but found nothing except for a family of ducks who seemed quite uninterested in donkey tails.

Kanga and Roo,

Too,

Returned from the sandy pit without any news.

However,

Their faces lit up when Pooh and Piglet showed them the threads.

These look like the threads of Eeyore's tail,

Confirmed Kanga.

Indeed,

Hooted Owl,

A most promising lead.

Even Eeyore looked slightly less gloomy for a moment.

Everyone felt that the tail might just be found after all.

And so our dauntless group of friends clung to the slender threads of hope,

Quite literally,

As they prepared to venture deeper into the hundred-acre wood,

Each harboring a quiet sense of optimism that maybe,

Just maybe,

Eeyore's tail would be found and things would go back to being just as they ought to be.

With a newfound vigor,

The companions from the hundred-acre wood followed the trail of threads into a rather thick and prickly thicket.

Brambles and bushes nipped at their feet and paws as they pushed on,

Eager to solve the curious case of Eeyore's missing tail.

Finally,

At the very heart of the thicket,

They found it,

The source of the threads.

Yet,

What they discovered was not a tail,

But a part of Rabbit's old blanket.

Worn and frayed from many a woodland escapade,

Bother and Blast muttered Pooh,

Sitting down heavily.

Rabbit's blanket,

Said Kanga,

Gently extracting roo from a tangle of vines.

Oh my!

Eeyore sighed,

An action at which he was particularly adept.

It seems we're following a tail,

And not a tail.

The little gathering felt a trifle deflated,

But just as they were about to retreat,

Piglet's eyes caught sight of something,

A patch of thistles,

Half-eaten and rather dishevelled,

Not far from the thicket.

Eeyore,

Are these your thistles?

Piglet inquired,

Tiptoeing up to the patch.

Possibly,

Replied Eeyore.

I'm rather fond of thistles,

As you might have observed.

Pooh,

Who had been deep in thought,

Or as deep as a bear of very little brain can be,

Suddenly perked up.

Friends,

He began cautiously.

If Eeyore's tail has gone missing,

Perhaps Eeyore might not have felt like eating thistles as much as he usually does.

The others looked at him,

A bit puzzled but intrigued.

What I mean is,

Continued Pooh,

Without a tail to swish away the flies,

Maybe Eeyore would rather sit than dine on thistles.

Maybe we should look for places where Eeyore might have sat recently.

That's a splendid idea,

Pooh,

Exclaimed Owl,

Rotating his head nearly all the way around in excitement.

A creature without a tail would indeed seek more sitting than standing.

So with fresh resolve they began to backtrack,

Carefully examining all the places that seemed particularly Eeyore-like for sitting.

Flat rocks,

Mossy logs,

Secluded corners shielded from the wind,

Places where a somewhat gloomy tailless donkey might pause to ponder the curiosities of life.

Just as Pooh was about to suggest that perhaps they ought to break for a small smackroll of something,

He saw it.

Tucked away amidst the brambles near a rather comfortable looking sitting spot with a familiar elongated shape.

Pooh's eyes widened.

Look,

Everyone,

Is it?

Could it be?

With great reverence,

As one would approach a fallen star,

Eeyore ambled over to the bush.

Ah,

There you are,

He muttered,

Gently disentangling his lost tail from the thicket.

You've had quite the adventure,

Haven't you?

Isn't this splendid,

Al declared,

Feathers puffing up with scholarly pride?

All is as it should be.

Indeed,

Murmured Kanga,

With Roo hopping excitedly around her,

It's such relief.

Piglet looked up at Eeyore,

His small frame vibrating with joy.

It's your tail,

You're complete again.

Now,

Eeyore being Eeyore,

Reattaching the tail was not an occasion for overly jubilant festivities,

But a simple dignified ceremony performed by Christopher Robin,

Who seemed to know a little bit about nearly everything.

He used a stout piece of string to secure the tail to its rightful place,

While Eeyore stood with quiet patience.

There we are,

Said Christopher Robin,

Tying the final knot.

How does it feel,

Eeyore?

Natural,

Replied Eeyore,

Lifting his newly restored tail a bit,

Though it could use a bit of a swish,

Which I shall administer when the time is right.

And that settled it.

There was nothing more to do than to celebrate and celebrate they did.

Pooh,

Who was something of an expert in the area of celebrations,

Suggested a party,

Not just any party,

But a honey and thistle party to cater to diverse tastes.

Tables were set in a clearing,

Filled with the late afternoon sunlight.

Golden,

Honey,

And bristly thistles laid out for the guests.

Pooh Bear took more than his fair share of honey,

But nobody minded.

Piglet tasted a dab of honey,

But then decided he was too happy to eat it.

Kanga and Roo nibbled politely at the offerings,

While Owl discussed at length the history of honey and thistles,

But never quite got around to actually eating any.

And Eeyore,

With his tail carefully positioned so that it could be admired by all,

Tried a little of both honey and thistles.

It's a good tail,

Eeyore announced solemnly,

Taking a moment from his munching to address his friends.

And these are good friends.

Not every donkey can say that,

You know.

Christopher Robin smiled at them all.

Well,

It just goes to show in the Hundred Acre Wood,

With friends stick together,

Anything is possible.

It was a simple party,

But sometimes simple is just another word for perfect.

And as they watched the sun set,

Painting the sky with hues of honey and thistle,

Each felt in their own way that this had been a very good day.

The sun had dipped beyond the horizon,

The twilight stretching its soft fingers across the Hundred Acre Wood.

Eeyore,

Feeling a peculiar sensation of lightness,

Approached his friends,

Who were still gathered,

A cluster of friendship in the growing dusk.

Ahem,

Began Eeyore,

Clearing his throat as if preparing to read from an invisible scroll,

I find myself in a predicament,

The predicament of owing gratitude.

Who looked up,

His paw still sticky with the last of the honey?

Oh,

Eeyore,

You don't owe us anything.

Eeyore blinked,

His eyes softening.

Ah,

But that's where you're mistaken.

One always owes thanks for kindness received,

So thank you,

Each and every one of you.

Kanga clasped her paws together.

Oh,

You're most welcome,

Eeyore.

Rue,

Who had been practicing his tail-bouncing technique,

Stopped to look at Eeyore.

We're friends,

That's what friends do.

Indeed,

Said Al,

Ruffling his feathers importantly,

Indubitably so.

As the evening turned darker,

And the stars started to flicker in the sky like fireflies in a midnight field,

Christopher Robin gathered his friends into a close circle.

I think we've all learned something today,

He began.

I learned that thistles have a right and a wrong end to start from,

Said Pooh thoughtfully.

I learned that sometimes a small piece of string can hold together much more than just a tail,

Said Piglet,

Gazing admiringly at Eeyore's newly attached appendage.

I've learned,

Began Al,

That even when situations appear most dire,

A logical,

Methodical approach,

Eeyore interrupted gently,

Sometimes,

Al,

It's not just the thinking but the doing and the being there.

The standing by your friends.

There was a hushed pause as Al nodded,

Pondering this simpler wisdom.

Christopher Robin smiled,

His eyes meeting each of theirs in turn.

And that's the most important lesson of all,

Isn't it?

That even in our darkest moments,

Even when we feel lost or incomplete,

It's friendship that guides us back to where we belong.

Everyone nodded,

Even Eeyore,

Who had started to think that perhaps some days wouldn't be quite so bothersome after all.

As long as we have each other,

Said Christopher Robin,

We'll never really be lost.

Eeyore looked at his tail,

Then back at his friends.

He felt a warmth that had little to do with the thistles and honey he'd consumed.

In that case,

He said,

I suppose we're all exactly where we're meant to be.

And as the moon rose,

Bathing the hundred-acre wood in a silvery glow,

Each knew in their hearts that Eeyore was quite correct.

For even if they ventured a thousand miles apart,

Friendship would always lead them back home.

As they all headed back to their homes,

And settled down for the night,

Drifting and floating peacefully asleep.