How Tattamungatail Got Her Nose...

Once upon a time, there lived a little rabbit named Tattamungatail. She was small and brown, soft and furry. She lived with a large family of stuffed animals in a big basket in a room that belonged to a little girl named Sydney. Some days, Tattamungatail would just lie in the basket, her face pressed up against Floyd the Pig's back, near where the squeaker was, her feet dangling in mid air over the edge of the basket. She liked that because it was quiet and still and because Floyd would sometimes tell her stories. Other days, she would softly creep up to the edge of the basket and look out over the room. It was always different. Sometimes there were cities of blocks, sometimes railroads, sometimes beautiful pictures on the pages of open books. She could hear music then, too, loud and silly, or quiet and peaceful. But the most exciting times were the times when Sydney took her out of the basket. One morning, Tattamungatail woke up and wiggled her toes. "Watch it!" grumbled Old Benjamin Bunny, who was very tender from being dropped downstairs the day before. Tattamungatail apologized and then wriggled her way up to the basket rim. Behind her, she heard Benjamin stretch and poke out an ear. "What a beautiful day!" said Tattamungatail. Benjamin agreed. "A good day for an adventure," he said. "What's an adventure?" asked Tattamungatail. "It's when Sydney spends the day with you and you go places and see things." Tattamungatail thought about that for a while. She could see that it was sunny out. Sydney wasn't in bed anymore. When she listened carefully, she could hear the sound of spoons and bowls-- breakfast! Tattamungatail, being a stuffed rabbit, never needed to eat breakfast, but occasionally she liked to have some pretend cereal or pretend fruit.

Benjamin, meanwhile, had gone back to sleep, but Tattamungatail didn't mind; she was imagining adventures! It wasn't long before Rugby, the dog, came into the room, looking for his gingerbread boy. "Good morning!" Tattamungatail called. "Hello!" said Rugby. "Have you seen the gingerbread boy?" He wagged his stumpy tail and twitched his black nose. He didn't really wait for an answer, but sniffed under the bookcases and behind the doll house. "I think he's under the bed," said Tattamungatail. "Thanks," said Rugby, in a muffled sort of way, his head engulfed in the dust ruffle. "I need to get through with him early this morning because we are going to the park."

The park! Tattamungatail had never been to the park before. She had heard that it was a big green place with a wide path, lots of dogs, and even water. She tried to imagine a big sheet of water with real boats on it, but she couldn't do it. Fortunately, it looked as though she was going to see it for herself. When Sydney came upstairs to get dressed, she insisted on rooting her out of the basket so she could come too. Tattamungatail was so excited that she could hardly keep still; it was a good thing Sydney kept throwing her up in the air. In the car, Tattamungatail couldn't see much because Sydney held her face down against the armrest of her car seat. But Rugby told her about the other cars moving by, the big trees, the streetlights, and especially the other dogs. Finally, they were at the park. Rugby leaped out of the car and tore off down the path, barking and sniffing at the other dogs. Sydney, of course, had to wait until she was released from her seat. Then she ran after Rugs. Tattamungatail bounced along under Sydney's arm until Sydney met the poodle. Sydney dropped her on the ground to pat the little white dog with both hands. The dog licked her face and ran a few steps, asking her to race.

She ran off, and Tattamungatail was alone at the park. At first, she was frightened. There was no Floyd here to squeak at her, no Benjamin. There was no strong basket around her. Underneath her, she felt the pebbly path and it was hard. Above her, far, far above her, was the blue sky, so much bigger than she thought it could be from the window of Sydney's room. Cautiously, she turned over and found herself looking out over the bay. It was the most amazing thing she had ever seen, sparkling and fluttering, swaying and glinting. She crept up close beside it. She daintily dipped her paws in the water to watch the drops stream from them like Sydney's gold beads, only brighter. Then she watched the water bugs dimpling the surface in the quiet places near the shore. After a while, she just lay down in the shade of a rock, smelling the good, moldy smell of mud. A breeze moved around her just enough to keep the day from being unpleasantly hot. Her eyes were heavy from gazing at the spangled water. At first, she didn't notice the fairy.

She was perched on a long grass stalk. It bent just slightly under her tiny weight. Her wings twitched like a dragonfly's from time to time, but otherwise she was completely still, watching, waiting for something. Then, in a flash, a silver fish jumped from the waves below and snapped up the fairy. Tattamungatail leaped after the fish. She slipped on one of the rocks and then she was in the water. Determinedly, she struggled to the fish's nook in a hollow under a rock. "Let her go!" she said, as fiercely as a small rabbit could. The fish, eyes half closed, looked at her insolently and turned his tail. Tattamungatail fumed. In one big wet hop, she was on top of the fish. She held it against the muddy bottom with her front paw and thumped it with her strong rear foot. With a cough and a gasp, the fish released the fairy and streaked away. Gently Tattamungatail lifted the fairy up on to the bank. Her shimmery wings hung limp about her and her dewdrop eyes were closed in her pale face. Tattamungatail dipped her paw in the water and dripped a few diamond drops on her face. She stirred a little, whirred her wings, and suddenly sat up. When she opened her eyes, she saw Tattamungatail and laughed her tiny laugh. She was a sight. Her soft brown fur was matted with mud. There was even mud smeared over her small pink nose. Her ears, normally proudly erect, dangled wetly on her shoulders. For a moment, she was indignant that this silly fairy should laugh at her when she had saved her from the fish. Then, upon reflection (in the water and in her head), she laughed as well. "Thank you!" said the fairy. "It is a wonderful thing to save a fairy." Rabbits don't blush, especially stuffed ones, but Tattamungatail came close. She rubbed her dirty nose on her equally dirty shoulder. "It was nothing," she mumbled. "I will give you a present," the fairy declared, with a decisive whirr of her wings. "Close your eyes." Obediently, Tattamungatail closed her eyes. She felt a small, tickling touch on her nose, heard the fairy laugh once more, and then nothing. She opened her eyes and looked around her. Gray rocks, silvery water, clear wind. She didn't see any present. Slowly, she moved back to the path. She was muddy and tired. She wanted Sydney to find her and cuddle her and take her home to the nice comfortable basket. She looked back at herself in the water. She looked terrible, at least what she could see of herself around that golden glinting.

What was that, anyway? Her nose! Her nose was golden now instead of pink. This must be the fairy's gift, she thought. But what use is a golden nose? Rugby came pounding down the path, Sydney close behind him. Tattamungatail dropped to the ground quickly. With a cry of joy, Sydney scooped her up. "What a muddy mess your rabbit is!" exclaimed Sydney's mother. "We'll have to wash her when we get home. Please be more careful!" She looked her over. "Funny," she said to herself. "I don't remember her nose being that color." At home, Tattamungatail enjoyed the swirling ride in the washing machine and the thumpy bumping of the dryer. Sydney, she knew, was waiting for her when she came out. They had a special tea party with pretend tea and pretend ham and pretend cookies and pretend pizza. Sydney also brought Tattamungatail to the dinner table and tried to feed her real carrots, but Mom and Dad prevented her. Tattamungatail was glad, because she really liked pretend carrots better than real ones. And at seven o'clock, the best thing of all happened. Tattamungatail got to sleep in bed with Sydney. Snuggled against Sydney's shoulder, Tattamungatail dreamed golden dreams, in which she did wonderful, magic things.