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Sarah Pugh

Sarah Pugh

Writing about what I know and love. #MyTVHeart

“Find Her, Keep Her”

5 min readApr 10, 2023
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In the grand canon of ’80s Disney afternoon cartoons, one that’s a bit lost in the nostalgia is “The New Adventures of Winnie the Pooh.”

Ducktales, Chip ‘N Dale Rescue Rangers, Tale Spin, Gummi Bears.

Darkwing Duck, Gargoyles, even Bonkers.

But then there’s the gentle, sweet New Adventures of Winnie the Pooh. Light and typically simplistic. But let me draw your attention to this particular episode.

For whatever reason, on Sunday mornings, I like watching old, nostalgic cartoons. And with an impending trip to Disneyland coming up, I pulled up Pooh.

For quick context, my relationship with this series — I was a little old for it by the time I came across it. I was a hardcore Rescue Rangers girl, but I had some younger cousins who were obsessed, so I watched it quite frequently. And enjoyed it. The theme song is an earworm (like most Disney cartoon themes of that era).

One relaxing Sunday morning, I randomly selected an episode of The New Adventures titled “Find Her, Keep Her.” There was something very alluring to me about the title immediately. Clever, but sad? Almost like an emo song title.

The episode takes place over a year, beginning in winter, and it focuses on notorious curmudgeon Rabbit. In a horribly windy winter storm, a baby bird in its nest is cast about the wind, the baby crying for help. The gang, consisting of Pooh, Tigger, Piglet, and Rabbit manage to catch the bird in her nest. She’s all alone and must be taken care of. Initially, the three assume responsibility, but Rabbit surprisingly takes up the job, insisting he alone will care for little Kessie.

The gang is surprised but goes along with Rabbit’s request. Rabbit takes Kessie home and cares for her. She calls him “Rabbie,” despite his instance on the Rab-BIT.

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The episode takes us over the course of a year, showing us seasons pass by. Kessie clearly loves Rabbie, and, though not quite as clear, vice versa. But something happens — Kessie falls off a cliff. In a truly dark moment, Rabbit attempts to go after her, with Tigger pulling him back, shaking his head saying “It’s too late. She’s gone.”

Now of course, she’s not. She’s met mid-fall with Owl, (something I assumed would happen. Owl had to step in to show this little bird how to fly, right?). And that’s exactly what happens. Owl, in his abstract way, indicates to Kessie that she has the power to fly and now needs to work on it.

Not on Rabbit’s watch. The minute he gets wind (haha) of her new dangerous hobby, he puts a hard to stop to it with Owl. But a bit later, in the fall, Pooh catches Kessie attempting to learn on her own. So he and Tigger come around to support her. When Pooh is questioned about their helping, given Rabbit’s feelings, he quietly notes that Rabbit said — Owl — couldn’t teach Kessie to fly. They’re fine.

Rabbit is furious. He snatches Kessie in his arms, and despite Kessie’s pleas, says this is against HIS wishes for her. Kessie desperately tries to explain to her caretaker — this is who she is. She must learn to fly. Because she has to fly south for the winter. And… winter is coming. Rabbit won’t hear it.

In perhaps the most devastating scene, in Rabbit’s home, Rabbit sits in front of the fire, rocking a plush rabbit in his arms. Kessie comes in, and asks him to read her a bedtime story “one last time.” Rabbit is infuriated. He lays a tremendous guilt trip on Kessie, saying he is clearly not needed anymore, before shutting himself into his bedroom, leaving a poor, dejected Kessie sobbing loudly in her tiny rocking chair by the fire.

The next day, Kessie is off to fly south. The gang is all there to support her, except, of course, for Rabbit. No one knows where he is, and they can’t wait any longer. Kessie takes off, to a new exciting future. But just as she disappears, we hear Rabbit’s plaintiff wails “Wait, wait!” He comes running up, a gift-wrapped carrot in hand, ready to say his good-byes.

After he thought he lost her, she swoops back in and they get their proper good-byes. But the true kicker of this episode? It’s common for these to end with Pooh and Piglet, back-to-back, waxing philosophical. Here, they’re questioning Rabbit’s feelings. Pooh smartly says “He cared too much. I think that’s just love.”

Piglet asks “Should we tell him?” Pooh, again smartly, says “No, I think he already knows.” as we pan over to a sad Rabbit, laying on the grass and looking out to the horizon, his bow-tied carrot still by his side.

While this treads an intense parental difficulty of not only letting a child go, but allowing them to embrace and follow their desires, even if they seem unfamiliar or dangerous.

The more interesting thing is how it’s explored in a non-parental way. In this series, only Kanga is really a parent. The rest of the crew aren’t clearly adults or children. They have differing maturity but are all, seemingly, friends. And maybe Rabbit is the most responsible, with the garden and the groundedness and all. But aside from Christopher Robin, there aren’t “adults and kids” in the show; they’re all really equal. And seeing how they treat this parental story is super cool. Everyone but Rabbit sees that Kessie needs help reaching her needs. And they step in and help her. When Rabbit pushes back, essentially claiming Kessie as his object, the gang gently pushes back. And it’s the rest of the crew who are there supporting her when she’s ready to go, without Rabbit.

The idea of community support, of finding support in adults other than parents, since parents might be a little too close to the situation to identify and meet needs….

I don’t think I’ll ever recover from this little 20 minute venture. Silly old Winnie the Pooh, indeed.

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Sarah Pugh
Sarah Pugh

Written by Sarah Pugh

Writing about what I know and love. #MyTVHeart