I Have This Theory

It isn't easy getting inside the head of Mr. Pooh. One has to eliminate all guile. One has to think simply, succinctly, and often about food. But, while getting ready for our second short trip in less than a month, I noticed a certain lack of interest on his part. It's not that the Pooh frets loudly--unless there is food involved--but after he got so very sick last spring on the cusp of one trip (which we then had to cancel), I've tried to stay a bit more in tune with Mr. Pooh's moods, especially around our comings and goings.

So I was amused to see that this is what he looked like as we were taking our bags out last Monday--a noticeable non-nonchalance which was quite different from when we left on almost a month ago--our first trip since he'd been sick. At that time he'd started to fret as soon as the luggage came out.

It occurred to me that maybe . . . just maybe . . . he'd been worried that without our old kitty Lion around, no one would come to take care of a Pooh while his peoples were out of town. But, because one of his girlfriends visited him on our last trip and give him food and rubbed his face in just the right places . . . maybe he realized that all those years, people were coming to take care of him too, and he had nothing to worry about.

Poohs don't like to worry.