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Calling for the famous consulting detective was a last resort for Pooh. He had called for assistance just over an hour ago, and was getting nervous. Had the detective received his message? Of course, Pooh knew the man was very busy. He had all sorts of cases to take on, all of which were probably far more important than Pooh’s.
He’d first asked Piglet for help, but Piglet couldn’t figure it out, either. He tried to ask Rabbit, but Rabbit wasn’t home. Then he went to ask Owl, but Owl was occupied with writing some of his memoirs. Finally, he tried to find Christopher Robin, but the young man was helping Eeyore rebuild his house. And as Pooh didn’t want to bother anyone else in the Hundred Acre Wood, he felt he’d no choice but to contact someone else.
Pooh knew he was a bear of very little brain, but the man he’d asked for help; why, he was a genius! Surely, of all people, Mr. Sherlock Holmes would be able to find Pooh’s missing Hunny Pot. All the bear had to do now was wait.
After a few pages worth of waiting, Pooh heard his doorbell ring. He opened up the door to see a tall man with hawk-like features. He was so tall that he had to bend down just to get a look through the door!
“Oh, hello there!” Pooh greeted. “Forgive me, I’ve been waiting for a visitor. You can come in and wait with me, if you like. You may have to crouch to fit inside. I’m afraid my house is Pooh-sized.”
The tall stranger blinked, and a look of realization came upon his face. He took a card out from his jacket pocket, and handed it to the little bear.
“Oh dear,” Pooh muttered. He wasn’t very good with reading. He tried to sound it out. “Sher…lock…Hole…mess…Con-sal-ting Dee-tekt-i’ve. Is that your name? It’s very long.”
“The first two words are my name. The second two are my occupation,” the man explained, holding back a smile.
Pooh wasn’t sure what an occupation was, but at least that meant the poor fellow’s name wasn’t quite so long.
“I see! Then it’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Hole-mess. Would you like to wait to meet Mr. Sherlock Holmes with me? I’m very anxious to talk to him. You see, he’s to help me find my Hunny.”
“There seems to be a misunderstanding, Mr. The Pooh. I am Mr. Sherlock Holmes. You called for my assistance, did you not?”
“Ah!” Pooh exclaimed. “Then there’s no need to wait at all! Thank you for coming all this way.”
“It was no trouble, really. Watson’s been away, and I’ve no cases at the moment,” Holmes admitted.
It was easy to see that this bear wasn’t very observant, so Holmes suspected this wouldn’t take long. But any distraction from the ennui of life would be worth his time.
“You said your pot of honey had gone missing?”
“Yes! It’s the strangest thing. I was going to sleep last night, and my Hunny was right beside me,” Pooh recalled. “I always keep it next to me, just in case my tummy gets rumbly. That way I can have my midnight snack and get right back to sleep. But when I woke up this morning, it was gone!”
Holmes thought it over, going through all the details the little bear had given him. Based upon the available data, and based on what he could gather about Pooh’s character…The solution was obvious enough.
“Have you tried looking underneath your bed?” Holmes suggested.
Pooh’s little eyes lit up. What a brilliant idea! He hadn’t thought of that. He rushed over to his bed, and looked beneath it. Sure enough, there it was! He grabbed his beloved Hunny Pot and held it in his arms.
“There you are, little Hunny Pot!” Pooh exclaimed.
He was so glad to have his prized possession back. How could he ever repay Mr. Holmes? Pooh tried to think of what would make him most happy.
“Would you like to join me for Hunny, Mr. Holmes?”
Holmes was surprised. Clearly, the little yellow bear valued honey very highly. He was really willing to share it?
“That’s very kind of you, Mr. The Pooh. I could never accept,” Holmes politely declined.
“It’s the least I could do!” Pooh insisted.
He left his home and stepped outside so the tall Mr. Holmes wouldn’t have to crouch any longer.
“I know a much better place for us to eat this Hunny. Follow me, please!”
Pooh and Holmes took a short walk down to Pooh’s favorite spot to think. Sure, he wasn’t going there to think now, but it was fine. It was a multipurpose spot!
Pooh sat down and pat the space next to him, inviting Holmes to join him. Holmes sat down next to the little bear. Pooh began to stuff his face with his honey. He stopped and offered Holmes the pot.
“I couldn’t,” Holmes said.
Pooh just smiled and pushed the honey closer. The detective sighed, got a glob of it on his finger, and licked it off. His eyes widened.
“This is…this is the best honey I have ever tasted. Thank you.”
For the next hour or so, if anyone were to go to Winnie the Pooh’s Thotful Spot, they would find the bear of very little brain speaking to the world’s first consulting detective. And they’d observe the two having a lovely time.