Farewell Floppy

  For Bonnie.

  First published in the United States of America in 2015 by Chronicle Books LLC.

  Originally published in France in 2010 under the title Adieu Chaussette by hélium/Actes Sud, 18 rue Séguier 75006 Paris.

  Copyright © 2010 by hélium/Actes Sud.

  English translation copyright © 2015 by Chronicle Books LLC.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission by the publisher.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data:

  Chaud, Benjamin, author.

  [Adieu Chaussette. English]

  Farewell Floppy / Benjamin Chaud ; English translation by Taylor Norman.

  pages cm

  “Originally published in France in 2010 under the title Adieu Chaussette.”

  Summary: A boy feels that he is too old for his pet rabbit, so he tries to turn Floppy loose in the woods--but when he realizes that he really loves his pet, and returns for him, Floppy is nowhere to be found.

  ISBN 978-1-4521-3734-6 (hc)

  ISBN 978-1-4521-4063-6 (epub2)

  ISBN 978-1-4521-4065-0 (epub3 fxl)

  ISBN 978-1-4521-4064-3 (mobi fxl)

  ISBN 978-1-4521-4066-7 (epib)

  Typeset in ClickClack.

  1. Lop rabbits--Juvenile fiction. 2. Human-animal relationships--Juvenile fiction. 3. Responsibility--Juvenile fiction. 4. Friendship--Juvenile fiction. [1. Lop rabbits--Fiction. 2. Rabbits--Fiction. 3. Human-animal relationships--Fiction. 4. Responsibility--Fiction. 5. Friendship--Fiction.] I. Norman, Taylor, translator. II. Title.

  PZ7.C3935Far 2015

  843.92--dc23

  2014010085

  English translation by Taylor Norman.

  Original French edition design by Emma Giuliani.

  Chronicle Books edition design by Ryan Hayes.

  Typeset in Paperback.

  Chronicle Books LLC

  680 Second Street

  San Francisco, California 94107

  Chronicle Books—we see things differently. Become part of our community at www.chroniclekids.com.

  Floppy, that’s my rabbit.

  That’s his name because of his ears. They don’t stand up straight like other rabbits’.

  He’s on the plump side, soft as a pillow with fur like silk. Sometimes he nibbles the electric cords in our house.

  As a playing companion, Floppy’s always been pretty useless. Useless at football, useless at wrestling. And he’s never really understood the difference between cowboys and Indians. It doesn’t matter anyway. I can’t have a rabbit as a best friend anymore. I’m not a baby.

  So I had to let him go.

  Of course, I didn’t tell Floppy that I was planning to leave him in the woods. He thought we were going on a walk like any other day, maybe to dig in the garden or build a hutch. He’s sweet, but not very clever.

  As usual, Floppy dragged his feet. He was so cute, though. I thought about it. If he’d just been a little more exciting, a little more daring, everything would be different now.

  “Come on, Floppy. We have places to be!”

  My plan was to take him far enough into the woods that he couldn’t find his way back all alone. At this rate, we’d never get there.

  Suddenly, I heard a noise.

  CRACK!

  What was that? I grabbed Floppy by one ear and jumped into a bush.

  Oh. It was just a girl and her dog going by. Luckily, she didn’t see us, though her dog eyed our bush suspiciously.

  Who knows, maybe she’d come to let her dog go.

  Had all animals in the forest been left there by kids?

  When the girl and her dog

  disappeared, we continued on our

  way. I tried to show Floppy the

  velvety green grass, the funny-

  looking mushrooms, the nifty trees

  with all their weird leaves. “Isn’t it

  nice here, Floppy?”

  No surprise, Floppy didn’t say

  anything. He didn’t realize how

  lucky he was about to be, getting to

  frolic around the woods like a wild

  rabbit. Instead, he just sat there like

  a nincompoop. He was practically

  begging me to leave him.

  Usually, when we took our walks, we went a little crazy. I liked to run around yelling, or I would hide from Floppy and then leap out and startle him. (It’s a lot more fun doing this to a rabbit than to a human. Rabbits jump really high. Humans just get mad at you.) But it was strange. Today, we were happy just walking along not saying anything.

  The trees got taller and taller. It got darker and darker. To tell the truth, I had never been so deep in the forest, and I was starting to get scared.

  Finally we arrived at a clearing with a nice tree in the middle. I told Floppy that he was going to stay here by himself.

  “It’s better for both of us,” I explained. “Rabbits are happier in the woods, and I need to make normal friends like other kids.”

  He looked at me with big, sad eyes. He blinked.

  Gosh, well, that was a great trick. Whenever Floppy wanted to get his way, he made his eyes all sad. It was so cute. But now he was just doing it for attention.

  “You’re free!”

  I threw a carrot as far as I could. He didn’t move.

  “Floppy, go!”

  It was a lot harder to abandon Floppy than I’d imagined.

  “I know!”

  I had an idea. I took a piece of yarn dangling from my sweater and unraveled it a bit. Perfect. Now I had a rope. Now Floppy would never follow me again. He would never, ever follow me again.

  Then I ran away as fast as I could without looking back.

  I tried to clear my mind of all thoughts. I especially tried not to think of Floppy all alone, tied to a tree, but I couldn’t help it. So then I figured it might be a good idea to at least untie him. You know, so he could run around like a regular wild rabbit. That was only fair. After all, that was my original plan—to let him go. Plus, if I kept picturing him tied to that tree, I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to sleep that night.

  So I turned around.

  Floppy was gone!

  There was still a red string around the tree, but nothing at the end of it.

  I looked all around the clearing.

  “FLOPPY!” I yelled.

  Then I yelled it facing east. Then north. Then south.

  No one answered.

  I couldn’t believe my rabbit had just abandoned me like that!

  Just then I noticed a piece of red string, braided around a bush. Floppy had been there.

  A little farther ahead, I found another. I was on his trail.

  “Floppy!” I said out loud. “What the heck were you thinking, coming all the way out here all alone? This is no place for a rabbit!”

  But after that, the trail ended.

  Where was I supposed to look now?

  “FLOPPY!” I shouted. “Come back! I’m sorry I left you all alone!”

  But once again, no one answered.

  What would happen to Floppy if I never found him again?

  What would happen to me if I never found him again?

  I was DEFINITELY not going to cry for a rabbit or anything. No way. Definitely not.

  Just then, I noticed a little cabin between some trees. Maybe I could ask the people who lived there if they’d seen Floppy!

  I was a little afraid to go in there all by myself, though. “If only Floppy were here!” I whispered. “Then there’d be two of us.”

  Of course, if he were here, I wouldn’t be looking for him in the first place. We could have just gone home, nice and slow, on our nice woodland walk, back in time fo
r a nice snack of apples and peanut butter, and everything would be okay.

  But Floppy wasn’t with me.

  “WHERE’S MY RABBIT?!”

  Immediately, I felt silly.

  Floppy was right there, squeezed comfortably between that girl and her dog, sipping a cup of tea. He looked happy, sitting there. Happy to drink tea? Or happy to see me?

  “We were just talking about you!” said the girl. “Would you like to join us? We’ve been waiting for you.”

  Well, it would be rude to decline an invitation like that.

  She’d found Floppy while walking with her dog. “By the way,” she informed me, “Floppy isn’t a rabbit. He’s a Lop bunny.” They’d brought him to the cabin, which was also a refuge for lost animals. “The rescue was a complete success!” she announced. “Floppy is officially our first lost animal!”

  “Do you want to come with us tomorrow?” she asked.

  “To do what?”

  “To find other animals lost in the woods!”

  I thought about it. It sounded a little silly, looking for lost animals just to save them. It sounded like a real little-kid idea. I took a sip of my tea.

  I thought about saying, “Nah, I’m busy.”

  I thought about saying, “This isn’t tea, it’s just cold water.”

  Instead, I said, “Sure, we’ll come with you tomorrow.”

  Floppy twitched his nose.

  On our way back,

  Floppy seemed tired.

  “Do you want me to carry you?”

  I asked.

  He twitched his nose.

  He really wasn’t that heavy, it

  turned out. And with Floppy riding

  piggyback, we flew faster than ever

  through the woods. His giant ears

  flip-flapped in the wind.

  Benjamin Chaud is the author and illustrator of New York Times Notable Book The Bear’s Song and The Bear’s Sea Escape, and he is the illustrator of I Didn’t Do My Homework Because . . . , A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to School . . . , and the Pomelo series. He lives in the South of France.

 

 

  Benjamin Chaud, Farewell Floppy

  Thanks for reading the books on GrayCity.Net