Eeyore’s house fell down a year later again.

Everyone gathered and tutted and raised up the sticks. He grumbled when it tumbled once more two nights after.

But Kanga smiled and brought him home since Roo had grown up and no longer rode in her pouch.

And Roo bounced off through hundreds of acres and ranged beyond trees he’d known sometimes with Rabbit who taught him much and sometimes with Tigger who taught him the rest.

Owl took wing more often than before, searching the woods, alighting on a long-abandoned tree house and searching for “evidence of occupancy” as he put it. Rabbit’s relations wandered and returned to report, their search fruitless day by day, weeks into months.

As for the most anxious of all, it is well he lived alongside a bear of very little brain but very great faith.

“When he’s ready, Piglet, he’ll come back.”

“Don’t you miss him, Pooh?”

“Yes.”

“Why don’t you go to look?”

“Suppose he came back while I was away and thought I had gone?” Pooh shook his head. “We won’t find him. He knows where we are and he’ll find us.”

And so it was one morning when Pooh was sitting down to a smackerel of something when a knock sounded at the door. A voice called, “Is Mr. Sanders in?”

Pooh looked up from his honey and smiled.

She was not Christopher Robin but the eyes were the same.

This is where my blog will go;

If I think of something, I’ll let you know.

In the meantime, here’s a picture of my spirit animal: