Mr. Putter and Tabby: They're Up to Something!

The other day, I wondered about some old friends — so I let the library help me reconnect with them.

These friends are Mr. Putter and Tabby, an adventuresome elderly gentleman and his older, charming cat. Author Cynthia Rylant teams up with illustrator Arthur Howard to share his unusual adventures with juvenile readers like me.

This couple of characters live next door to Mrs. Teaberry, the more adventurous of the two, and her good dog, Zeke. Usually it's Mrs. Teaberry who has the idea to try something different, and Mr. Putter is always in. However, when Mr. Putter has the idea — well, watch out!

I stumbled across these characters a few years ago, just by chance. Having a few tabbies in my life made me feel kin to Mr. Putter, and growing up with dogs made me appreciate Mrs. Teaberry. I had to find out what they could get up to in their silver years.

Plus, on a purely academic level, it's nice to remind children that older people aren't all dinosaurs — and that older pets can be good companions.

And the illustrations — well, see for yourself.

So, last night, Ginger and I read a few adventures. We have a few more waiting for us (thank you, Library!). It's always nice to see what these four can get up to, and they have yet to disappoint. Something as tame as tea can become a crazy day for them!

If ever you want a laugh, turn to Mr. Putter, Tabby, Mrs. Teaberry and Zeke.

Who are your favorite characters? What do you think of illustrated books?

Discovering Wild Things Are, Thanks to Sendak

Maurice Sendak, the writer who gave us a most honest view of childhood, died today at the age of 83.  Click here for the lovely write-up of his life by AP reporter Hillel Italie: 'Where Wild Things Are' author Maurice Sendak dies.

I have to admit, I skipped over his books when I was a child and didn't visit them until much later in life. Sendak's work was very much like what already was in my head: gray lines, dun colors, fear and fascination for what I alone seemed to see. I should have been drawn to the contrast of round, soft bodies and heads with sharp claws and horns, but I wasn't, not at that age. I was the kind of kid who read Very Special People when I was in grade school (and looking up some of the words I didn't recognize taught me more than the words themselves did). I knew about poltergeists before I knew about princesses.  I wasn't a morose child, but early loss made me less Disney and more Tollbooth.

However, I made a special trip to Manhattan during the summer of 2005 to spend most of a day in the Jewish Museum, peering into the life-size world of Wild Things and more. I left with a few books (imagine that) — but not the ones everyone else seemed to favor (imagine that, too).  I didn't want his round, soft monsters, but his dark, illustrated folks tales and fables. What I was most glad to take with me from the museum was a new appreciation of an author I finally took the time to meet. I thought much about him as I meandered through the city, munching on an H&H bagel and wondering if the night sky would be the same color now that I had been in his world.

I am grateful for his vision and respect for children, to trust them enough to tell them what he really thought. I wish him, his family and his fans peace. May we continue to appreciate his vision and how he gallantly recorded it — but most of all, how he generously shared it.