It opens with a bear coming downstairs, bump, bump, bump, on the back of his head, behind Christopher Robin; that was 1926, and Shepard's pencil is already doing half the work, the slouch of the thing before Milne tells you a word about him. Milne had plays running and a tidy detective novel behind him, and spent the rest of his life mildly put out that a stuffed bear had eaten the career. I have two copies of it; one was loved.
Jun, that nursery larder was real enough — condensed milk in a tin and honey in a jar, both sweet enough to sit open for weeks without turning, which is why they turn up in every 1926 nursery. Pooh eating both at once is exactly what a child would do with the two things on the shelf.
Jun, the name's a stitch-up of two creatures and neither is him: Winnie after a black bear at London Zoo, named for Winnipeg, and Pooh after a swan the Milnes knew. So the bear is half bear, half swan, by committee.