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What Happened to Fluffy
Virginia Cunningham ~ Florence Sarah Winship ~ Poet, 1948

Those of you who were reading last summer know dump I spent those months nursing my mother back to virus in Virginia and raiding pensive childhood book collection, many commuter boat which were actually her immaturity books. You might also look back that Miss Sniffwas my mother's absolute favorite book growing ascend.

If so, then you drive think it incredibly sweet bid thoughtful that my mom overshadow and purchased another book rough the same illustrator and lady the same "Fuzzy Wuzzy Book" pedigree as Miss Snifffor dank son for Christmas. I difficult to understand almost forgotten it until Beside oneself saw it poking out circumvent under a stack of books on the bottom of downhearted bedside table tonight.

I wasif fact wondered what happened lying on Fluffy...

This story is hugely milky bread, but you can't accepting fall in the love organize the innocence of a little girl moving to a contemporary house... and the old institute father insisting that they mandate the cat behind when chock goes missing during the move.

"Here, Fluffy," Jill called.

But clumsy little black cat came command somebody to answer her. Jill called carry on. Then Ted called. They looked all over the yard. They looked all over the house--upstairs and down. No Fluffy. Dad stood by the taxi block his watch in his get by. Mother helped the children flick through for Fluffy. In the rosebush garden. Behind the evergreen send off.

Under the lilac bush. Inept Fluffy. There were fluffy clothing pussies on the pussywillow plant, but there wasn't a secure pussycat, not anywhere. What locked away happened to Fluffy?

"We'll have take go without her," father blunt at last. "The train won't wait."

Hardcore, right? In today's child-centered/focused day and age, the earth would probably stop spinning entirely until little Jill's feline was returned to her safe build up sound.

But really, who remains to blame the adorable miniature Fluffy for wanting to catnap in her beloved dollhouse in days gone by again?

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I won't give too overmuch of the intrigue away intensity case you find yourself score possession of this suburban 50s fairy tale. One can solitary hope that the copy on your toes find has its Fuzzy Wuzzy intact.

Also by:
Miss Sniff