DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything to do with this, don't sue me. Also, if you don't like having childhood memories of Winnie the Pooh soured somewhat by some fairly dark humour, you probably shouldn't read this. Finally, I've never actually read any Winnie the Pooh books so I've just written it in stereotypically childish fashion.

Eeyore was depressed. He had been for a long time now. He wondered why nobody noticed how depressed he was – after all, he always spoke so glumly and hardly ever smiled. You see, Eeyore realised how futile his existence was. For there was, truly, no point to living, and Eeyore knew it better than any of the other residents of the Hundred Acre Wood. His tail couldn't even stay on right!

And so, Eeyore decided it was time to end it. That was, it seemed to him, the easiest option, for the utter despair of a pointless existence was something that simply wouldn't do.

Eeyore wondered how to end his life. Perhaps a fall from the swing at a strange angle would do it? But no, that wouldn't do at all, for he was such an apathetic old donkey that he would never manage to get on the swing! Even after that, falling off with enough force to break his neck, or indeed any bones that might puncture something vital, was a tricky job, and not one that Eeyore was confident he could execute without buggering it up.

So perhaps a long roll down the hill would do the trick, if he really stuck his neck out? But no; once again, Eeyore decided that would be far too tricky to manage cleanly.

He could drown himself in the river, perhaps – or even in a pot of Pooh's honey! Eeyore wondered if he could even hold his head under the water for long enough to finish himself off effectively, for when he waded wistfully into the warm water, he found that the river was too shallow. His knees and back ached, and he didn't much feel like bending down for any length of time. As for the honey, Eeyore doubted he could fit his great thick head into the pot!

There were no poisonous substances in the Hundred Acre Wood, and it would take far too long to eat enough of Rabbit's vegetables to kill him. There was no rope from which to fashion a noose other than the swing, and Eeyore was far too kind a creature to deprive his friends of their swing. There were no guns, no knives… A sharp stick maybe? But no, if Eeyore missed his vitals he would be left in agony for the rest of his life with a wound that would likely turn septic, and that would never do.

Eeyore's rump was hurting quite atrociously by this point as he paced around lethargically, wondering how to end his life. The nail holding his tail in was never pleasant, but on this day in particular it was particularly painful. He wished his friends had found some other way of sticking it on after he'd lost the bow. Maybe, Eeyore thought, I could use the nail! Now this was a promising brainwave, but poor Eeyore soon realised that he had no fingers!

Poor old Eeyore, that pitiable old donkey, collapsed in a weeping heap on the grass. Life held nothing for him, and he couldn't even leave it properly! What a pathetic old thing Eeyore felt at that moment, when who should happen to come along but Christopher Robin!

'Are you alright, Eeyore?' asked kind Christopher Robin, who was a very caring boy.

'No,' grumbled Eeyore, in his deep voice. 'I can't even kill myself right!'

Christopher Robin was horrified and shocked that his friend would even consider such a thing! He reached out to pat Eeyore on the rump, or stroke his raggedy mane, but before his hand touched the old donkey, Eeyore looked up with large, round, wet eyes.

'Would you… help me?' the poor old donkey asked.

'What?' Christopher Robin replied, most shocked!

'Please,' Eeyore grumbled and mumbled in that low voice of his. 'I have always respected you' – and that was true, the old grey donkey had always held the young boy in the highest of esteems – 'and I consider you my friend. So would you do me the kindest of favours and help me to leave this world?'
When Eeyore had finished speaking – which took an awfully long time, with his plodding way of talking – he bowed his head, awaiting Christopher Robin's response.

'We need to get you some help, Eeyore!' exclaimed Christopher Robin, who was very concerned for his very great friend!

'I just need to stop existing, I think,' Eeyore burbled back, his big eyes wandering around aimlessly.

Christopher Robin was in quite a dilemma! He had the greatest respect for the old donkey, and he did not want him to die, but neither did he want him to feel like this. Most of all, he wanted to help! But Eeyore was so determined that perhaps the best way for Christopher Robin to help him was by giving him a quick push on his way into the next life!

'If you have ever respected me,' Eeyore continued in his bassy bumble, 'you will help me to do this.'
Well, what was Christopher Robin supposed to make of that?

'Now, Eeyore,' he said, trying to hold back the diamond droplets of water that were pooling in his big blue eyes, 'please don't make me do this.'

Eeyore was most upset – and so was Christopher Robin, for that matter! – when Tigger, that tearaway tiger, bounced onto the scene.

'Why, you two look like a miserable pair of old plums!' Tigger babbled bouncily. 'Why not bounce? Bouncing solves all problems!'

Christopher Robin sighed. Well, that was most difficult! Most difficult indeed! How was he supposed to deal with a suicidal donkey when he had a tiger with attention deficit disorder to contend with?

NEXT TIME:
Christopher Robin attempts to talk Eeyore out of killing himself, persuade Tigger to take his medication and stop Kanga from abusing Roo.
All to look forward to in 'Winnie The Pooh – The Mental Health Awareness Special!'