Now We Are in the Public Domain

Pooh, Piglet, and Friends Digest Potentially Dire News

Winnie-the-Pooh was stumping through the forest one day, on the way to see his friend Piglet. When Pooh arrived, Piglet was flapping his arms and looking very flustered, as if he’d just run into a gorse-bush by mistake.

“Good morning, Piglet,” Pooh called out. “Is everything all right?”

Piglet pointed to the beech-tree where he lived. Tucked between two low branches was a yellowing newspaper. “Someone left this for me, but I don’t know what it says! I’m afraid it may contain Dire News.”

Pooh took the newspaper in hand. “Let’s ask Christopher Robin for help.”

“Shall I lock my house up, in case the Dire News comes to pass?”

“Better had,” said Pooh.

Side by side, Pooh and Piglet walked to Christopher Robin’s tree and rapped on the green door.

“Good morning, Pooh,” said Christopher Robin.

“Good morning, Christopher Robin,” replied Pooh. “Someone left a newspaper for Piglet, and he is concerned it may contain Dire News.”

“Let’s see,” said Christopher Robin, studying the paper. Then he read aloud slowly, sounding out each word: “Winnie-the-Pooh (1926) Enters the Public Domain as of January 1, 2022.”

“What does that mean?” cried Piglet, now anxiously running in circles. “Is it Dire News?”

“I don’t believe so,” said Christopher Robin. “I mean, I can read the words, but I’m not sure what they Signify. You never can tell with headlines. Come on, let’s ask Owl.”

Owl was the wisest creature any of them knew. He lived in a Grand Residence in the Hundred Acre Wood.

“Good morning, Pooh, Piglet, Christopher Robin,” Owl said in a Welcoming Way.

“Good morning, Owl,” they replied.

“Could you help us understand the headline of this newspaper, which was left for Piglet?” Christopher Robin asked. He read the words aloud for Owl, and Owl nodded. “Yes, entering the Public Domain, this is an Exceedingly Important Development.”

“What is a domain?” asked Pooh.

“Well, the Hundred Acre Wood is one sort of domain. My domain, one might say. Whereas in this term, ‘domain’ is used in a more abstract sense. So to speak.”

“Abstract?” Pooh asked.

Christopher Robin chipped in: “A wobbly sense, Pooh.”

“A wobbly sense,” Pooh repeated slowly.

“If something is in the Public Domain, no one owns it as their Exclusive Intellectual Property.” Owl adjusted a couple of feathers that had gotten out of place. “In this case, the copyright holder’s rights have expired.”

“Expired?” replied Piglet, suddenly shaking. “As in No Longer Existing?”

“Yes,” said Owl.

“But in a wobbly sense, Piglet,” Christopher Robin added. “Am I right about that, Owl?”

Owl nodded.

Eeyore, who had been listening from his Gloomy Place, trundled over. “This is Terrible News. The very Worst Sort of News.” A piece of thistle hung from one of the donkey’s floppy ears.

“It’s really not,” Owl countered. “It’s just news. Good News, some might say.”

“Will Kanga and Roo be in the Public Domain too?” Pooh asked.

“They will,” replied Owl.

“And Rabbit?” Piglet chimed in.

“Him too,” said Owl.

Just then, Tigger bounced by at a distance.

“And what about Tigger?” asked Pooh.

“Not yet. He was introduced in a later book.”

Pooh and Piglet looked at each other, confused. Then Pooh asked what felt to him like the Most Important Question: “Are our lives going to change? Will there still be Woozles and Heffalumps? Will my jars still be full of honey, and the bees still buzz in the trees?”

“None of those things will change, Pooh,” Owl explained.

“Silly old Bear,” added Christopher Robin.

Piglet dashed home to unlock his tree, now that the threat of Dire News had passed.

“Farewell then, Owl,” said Pooh.

“Farewell, Pooh.”

Christopher Robin and Pooh walked out of the Hundred Acre Wood.

“I’m glad nothing real is going to change,” said Pooh.

“Only some wobbly things,” said Christopher Robin.

“See you tomorrow, Christopher Robin.”

“See you tomorrow, Pooh.”

As he walked home, Pooh realized that, in all the hubbub about the newspaper, he’d forgotten to eat for hours. This was quite unlike him. He hummed a little song to himself:

It’s very rare,

Tiddely-thump

To be a bear

Piddely-pump

And not to care

Riddely-rump

About honey!

Once Pooh was home again, he retrieved a jar from a high shelf. Then he sat on a log in front of his tree, eating honey and waiting for the sun to set.