In 1946, Elizabeth Taylor -- then fourteen and a major star at MGM -- published a book about her pet chipmunk, Nibbles. With wit, charm, and remarkable skill, she related the adventures and mishaps of her high-spirited friend. She and Nibbles were virtually inseparable during the shooting of National Velvet and other films; in fact the chipmunk almost got to appear in Courage of Lassie -- but he was so well behaved that he didn't look real, and his scene was cut! Recounted here are such stories as the happiest birthday of her life, when she was given King Charles, the horse who was called The Pi in National Velvet, because only Elizabeth could ride him. Long out of print, this enchanting memoir is available once again with Miss Taylor's original illustrations (including previously unpublished drawings from her private collection), photos of Elizabeth Taylor and Nibbles on and off the set, and a new introduction by the legendary actress. Children will love the story of a girl and her pet; older readers will appreciate the insight into young Elizabeth Taylor's life that this book provides. Elizabeth Taylor's acting career has spanned six decades. Since her film debut at the age of nine, she has received two Oscar Awards and five Best Actress nominations as well as a Life Achievement Award from the American Film Institute, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences' Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award, the French Legion of Honor, and she was made a Dame of the British Empire in 2001. As a young actress she was best known for her roles in Lassie Come Home and National Velvet. Highlights of her later career include Father of the Bride; Raintree County; Cat on a Hot Tin Roof; Suddenly, Last Summer; BUtterfield 8; Cleopatra; Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?; and The Taming of the Shrew. Elizabeth Taylor wrote and illustrated Nibbles and Me while a teenager, and it was published when she was fourteen. Chapter 1: Before Nibbles Ever since I was a little girl I have had all sorts of pets. I remember in England at our house in the country there was a nest under the eaves, just outside my bedroom window, with a darling little family of swallows in it. That was why we named our house Little Swallows. It was so beautiful, like a little house out of a Walt Disney film nestled against a lovely woods that was almost like a bird sanctuary. All year around the woods back of our house were carpeted with some kind of wildflowers, except for just a few weeks during the winter. I used to ride through the woods on my little mare Betty and I felt so high up in the air among the trees. It seemed as if I was right up there with the birds. They would fly down so low all around me and sing and chatter away -- just as if they were trying to attract my attention and talk to me. I used to try and answer them, and sometimes Betty would whinny as if she wanted to talk to us too. She was so intelligent -- she knew everything I said to her. Some people say horses do not understand what you say to them -- that they only understand the tone of your voice in command -- but that isn't so. I was only three and a half years old when I first had Betty, and she was as wild as anything, and threw me sky-high into a patch of stinging nettles the first time I crawled onto her back. Then I led her around and talked to her; I told her she had been given to me, and that I was her new mistress, and that I loved her very much and wanted her to love me. We walked around and talked for quite a while and then I led her over to the stone wall where I could climb up and get on her back and I kept on talking to her. From then on we were always friends. She would buck other people off or dash into the lake until she frightened them so that they were glad to get off...but you could do anything with her by talking to her. They said I was the only one who could do anything with her, but I know anyone could have if they had loved her as much as I did. It was such fun down there. You see we lived in London on Wildwood Road, and we went down to Little Swallows for the summer and weekends. It was so wonderful. I feel I could write a book about Little Swallows. The house was sixteenth century. It was mentioned in Jeffery Farnol's novel, The Broad Highway -- only then it was supposed to be a haunted house. In fact, when we went to live there lots of people still called it The Haunted House, and it hadn't been lived in for years and years. But we loved it because it looked just as if it belonged in another world. It had never had a bathroom. So we made the dairy into a bathroom and had to pipe water for fifty miles. One day a messenger boy brought a telegram to the door. I asked him to come in while I called Daddy, and he said, "Come in! Oh no, Miss -- not me. This here house is haunted. " Mummie heard him and laughed and said, "Oh, it isn't haunted anymore, now that we've had hot and cold water laid on. " So the rumor soon spread that the Taylors