Just six weeks after little Shylo left his mother and family out in the country warren, he is being called upon by the Royal Rabbits of London to help save the Queen’s reputation. If the reader has not read the first book in this series, never fear, the highlights are recapped in chapter one. (The Royal Rabbits are true rabbits that protect the royal humans in England and have been doing so undetected for centuries.)

In this story, the nasty, foul Ratzis (no ordinary rats, but rats just the same) are out to humiliate the the President of the United States (POTUS) and the King and Queen of England at their state dinner in London. The head Ratzi – Papa Ratzi- has numerous TV stations and Internet web sites. He will destroy both of these world leaders and their countries’ alliance to each other in one embarrassing event on live TV. BAD NEWS SELLS!!

Papa Ratsi wants small, meek- mannered, brainy Shylo caught for ruining their last attempt to humiliate the Queen. Papa Ratsi wants Shylo interrogated to get all the information he knows about their nemicus the Royal Rabbits of London.

Meanwhile, the Royal Rabbits do not want to work with the Rabbits of the United States (ROTUS) in their mission to protect these two leaders on their home soil. And the ROTUS do not want to work with the Royal Rabbits to protect their president. Thank goodness the two leaders of these two groups insist both sides work together.

In a diversion, the Ratzis grab Shylo. Once this is known, the Royal Rabbits and ROTUS decide that their mission to protect their leaders comes before trying to rescue Shylo. Shylo, being the smart bunny that he is, figures this out for himself. He is on his own to escape. Shylo outwits his guard, escapes his prison, and succeeds in stopping the Ratzis plot.

Shylo, the small, smart, unassuming ‘bunkin’, saves the day, once again! Time to celebrate with the finest carrot juice and dancing down in The Grand Burrow beneath Buckingham Palace!

Meanwhile, Papa Ratzi , AKA Nibbles, is off in America “with his plans to cause havoc in the world, and neither was he finished with his plans for a weak but troublesome little bunny called Shylo.” (201)

After the story ends, the readers will have the chance to test their knowledge on 1) London Landmarks, 2) make a recipe from the story, 3) take a personality quiz, and 4) read ‘Top Ten Facts about the US President and the White House’.

Illustrator Kate Hindley’s illustrations (one per chapter) add to a rabbit’s point-of-view, how the reader will relate to the rabbits’ point-of-view, how stylish the Royal Rabbits are, and how foul the Ratzis are with great charm.

“The text of this book was set in Aged Book” which adds to the allure of British charm this book strives to present to the reader.

I really enjoyed this one. The illustrations fill the animal characters with personality and spirit. The story opens with a chipmunk receiving a note from Bear to “Please come at once!” Imagining Bear in distress, since Bear never asks for anything, little Izzy sets out to brave a coming storm in order to help her friend. When she finds herself unable to continue, a squirrel comes to her aid, and they continue on until the storm is even too much for the two of them, when a duck in a knit cap and scarf try to fly them through, but eventually the three must accept the help of a sweater-clad raccoon too. As they persevere through each new struggle, we read again and again the refrain, “No matter how steep or tough the climb, a friend is worth it, every time.” When they finally reach their destination, it turns out Bear wasn’t really distressed — he just wanted to wish his small chipmunk friend a happy birthday.

On the one hand, the book got my hackles up right off the bat when it begins by telling about Gideon and Audrey’s tradition of building a sandcastle together every summer: “Gideon made sure each tower stood straight, every wall was level, and all the castle sides were smooth. Audrey made sure the castle sparkled with shells, sea glass, ad a starfish on the top.” Seriously? Are we still allowing children’s picture books to blatantly pass on gender stereotypes that the boy cares about the engineering of the castle and the girl is all about decorating? And yet if it wasn’t for that one page, I like how the story continued with Gideon deciding one summer that he was going to build one all on his own, and after many attempts that get destroyed by waves or wind or others on the beach, he does indeed succeed in building a structurally impressive sand castle, admired by many strangers, only to discover his success is a bit hollow when he sees his sister and parents joyfully laughing together over a much more lopsided structure. I like the message of valuing togetherness and joy over independent glory. I feel like the publisher let the author down here: if it had been big sister v. little sister or big brother v. little brother, it could have avoided the whole sexist flaw easily enough.

As a general rule, I am not really a fan of abridgments and adaptations. I find it a bit disrespectful to the original work of the author. That being said, this one does have really charming illustrations that invite the readers in. Since the original work has sat on my library shelves for years without circulating, this may be a good way to introduce students to the idea that the story came before Disney, even if the picture book format allows for only a taste of the full story.

The text is in phrases, rather than sentences — a rhyming poem describing a series of transitions in a small child’s life, from saying goodbye to last year’s favorite coat that’s now too small and moving on to a new one that fits just right, to a trip on an airplane which requires saying goodbye to the familiar in order to say hello to the grandparents at the other end of the journey; from giving away one’s preschool trike in favor of a big kids’ bike, to saying goodbye to velcro-covered toes when one learns to tie their own shoes. It culminates with saying goodbye to mom and dad in order to head out for the first day of school and all it holds. The illustrations are vibrant and simple and graphic, offering support to the limited text to make the meaning clear.

It’s a lovely glimpse into Japanese culture, as well as the sharing of traditions across generations, and the transformation of traditions as life changes. It begins with Mayumi as a young child, describing her annual visits to her grandfather who lived half a world away, and the time they spent together in the garden he built when she was born. She describes his garden as unlike any other gardens with which she was familiar: instead of flowers or vegetables, it is a rock garden. She shares what she learned as they worked together, and how much she enjoyed raking patterns in the small stones. She describes the small tin of souvenirs she kept from the garden to remember her visits when she was back at home. And then she tells of the year they visit, and find the garden overgrown and untended; the illustrations show her parents packing boxes and grandfather in a wheelchair as she learns he cannot live there anymore. Remembering how her tin of souvenirs comforted her when she was far away, she makes both her grandfather and herself miniature rock gardens in bento boxes so they can take a piece of their memories with them when they must move away.

It’s a fine story, a loving tribute and memoir of a girl’s outings with her grandfather, who she knew as Toppy, and the world knew as Charles R. Knight, a famous wildlife artist, responsible for many works at the American Museum of Natural History. Told from the granddaughter’s perspective, she shares how her grandfather began visiting the museum and the zoo when he was only five years old, and how he taught himself to observe closely the animals he loved, despite his poor eyesight. He was the first to paint prehistoric animals, based on his study of their fossils.

I like it. It acknowledges that it’s okay to have mixed feelings about big events, like starting school for the first time: Lena wakes up excited about her first day of kindergarten, but when she goes to get dressed, she discovers her shoes are nervous. She encourages her headband and her shoes to have a heart-to-heart talk, and after the shoes explain that school is big and loud and different and they’d really rather not go, the headband reminds the shoes about other times they were all scared but decided to be brave together (the illustrations indicate doctors’ visits, ending with a lollipop, a scary movie that turned out funny, and meeting a big dog who turned out friendly). Shoes still aren’t quite convinced until Lena threatens to wear her slippers instead, at which point they decide to be brave together. When they reach the playground, the shoes get a little nervous again, causing Lena to walk slower than usual, but not for long. I like that it is told in a way that is respectful of all the feelings churned up by this new experience.

It’s a lovely book. The illustrations are warm and rich. The story tells about a walled village where the townspeople are painting a mural on the wall to welcome all to their town, but they face the problem that no one in town is tall enough to reach the top part of the wall. When Billy expresses concern about this, his grandfather tells him not to worry, as he knows just the fellow for the job. He reminds Billy of all the times the local giant has come to their aid, but young Billy refuses to believe his grandad’s stories are anything other than stories, because he’s never actually seen the giant, despite hearing the stories for years. When he asks why the giant would hide if he’s so nice, his granddad explains that people are often scared of things that are different, and can be unkind, and he encourages Billy to visit the wall at Dawn to see what he will see. When he does indeed see the giant painting the top of the wall, he runs away in fear, until he realizes he has behaved just as others have, and has contributed to the giant feeling unwelcome. He is determined to make things better, and he does indeed find a way. It’s a sweet story that encourages kindness and believing in things we cannot see.