Freda once got lost in her own garden, which is quite an achievement when you consider the advantages of having been there before. Familiar surroundings usually help with navigation. In Freda’s case, they appear to have offered very little assistance, although it is entirely possible she found several interesting things while failing to find wherever she was going.
She is the puppy from the farm next door, and she brings a tremendous amount of enthusiasm into the world of Erik and Ernie. Where she takes it afterwards is harder to establish. Freda has a habit of forgetting what she is doing halfway through, so an activity can begin with great promise and end with everyone, including Freda, wondering what the original arrangement was.
You cannot accuse her of lacking interest. If anything, there is far too much to be interested in, and she would like to give all of it her immediate attention. Somewhere in that cheerful scramble, the first thing gets left unfinished. Any hooman who has gone upstairs for something and returned with three unrelated objects should perhaps hold off on judging.
There Was Definitely a Plan a Moment Ago
Freda likes chasing butterflies, which seems a particularly suitable pastime for a puppy whose thoughts have difficulty travelling in a straight line. A butterfly is unlikely to provide a reliable route or a clear destination. Neither, to be fair, is Freda. They can have a lovely afternoon being vague together.
Directions are another matter. She dislikes them, an unfortunate preference for somebody with her record of getting lost. You can imagine the difficulty of explaining a route when the listener is excited about everything along it. By the time you reach the important turning, she may have developed a considerable interest in something behind you.
Erik, with his fondness for knowing what is happening, would have plenty to work with here. There is something rather funny about picturing a cat trying to maintain order while a puppy is delighted simply to be included. His meaningful stare might be wasted on somebody who interprets attention as the beginning of a friendship.
And then there is Ernie. Between his appetite for mischief and Freda’s readiness to get involved, you would want to be fairly careful about suggesting they find something to do. A quiet activity sounds sensible, though somebody would have to explain the quiet part.
Affection, with a Little Extra Moisture
Freda is generous with her affection, and some of it arrives as slobber. Cat lovers accustomed to receiving a single slow blink as proof of undying devotion may need a moment to adjust. There is considerably less distance between Freda liking something and Freda licking it.
Her judgement on the subject has room for improvement. A beehive appears among her more questionable choices, which rather stretches the idea of a friendly greeting. The bees already have quite enough to organise without a puppy introducing her tongue into the proceedings.
Still, her warmth is a large part of what makes her good company on the page. She means well, even when the result requires a towel. Belly rubs are among her favourite things, a reassuringly straightforward interest after all that wandering about. Here, at least, is an activity with an obvious location and very little need for directions.
There is no grand entrance to arrange with Freda, no title to remember and no need to prove you are important enough for her attention. She offers the sort of friendship that makes room for you as you are. You might get damp, but you are unlikely to feel unwelcome.
As you get to know the animals around Erik and Ernie, keep an eye out for this bouncy neighbour. Following Freda means allowing for interruptions, unfinished business and the possibility that the journey has become more interesting than the destination.
Should you ever find yourself giving her directions, perhaps offer to walk with her instead. It would be pleasant to have the company, and there is a reasonable chance that at least one of you will remember where you were going.
