Tales from the Library

That’s one conception of death, for a Buddhist. The wave…returns to the ocean. Where it came from. Where it’s supposed to be.

I see many Winnie the Poohs at the hospital (aka Winnie aka Pooh aka Pooh Bear), as you may guess.  Many look like this, a bit flat and with small wounds, designed to have a removable shirt:

They come for spas:

New hearts and stuffing:

And plumping up so they have a proper belly again:

Sometimes they look like this:

A bit more loved… or as his person said, in more “desperate condition”.

He also had a spa (not everyone does):

As you may’ve noticed, he needed a new nose and there were several options:

His heart had a pooh on it as well as some magic from a heffalump:

And after a bit of arm and smile surgery, soon he was healthy and ready to fly home:

His person wrote “He looks wonderful!”

The final Pooh I’m going to show you today just flew home yesterday.  He is always called Pooh Bear.  He is 14 years old and showed every year of hugs.  

Here are the photos his person’s mom sent for diagnosis:

As you can see, Pooh Bear was a bit flat and a bit gray.  He came in for a spa:

Got new stuffing and a magical Heffalump heart to preserve a bit of his original stuffing:

And finally was clean and plump and fluffy and ready to fly home: