TAILS OF THE FREDSTER

Hi! I’m Freddie, aged approximately 18 months. No-one knows exactly because my early life was spent surviving in the wild. The sad side of this is that I never have a birthday celebration…. The good side is that, a year ago I was adopted. Yay! I’m now looked after by Grandma-Guardian…. GG if you like, although she’s not a horse, nor a Governor-General. In her earlier days she lived with five other humans, two dogs and a couple of cats. Now she has only me.

As I said, my name’s Freddie. GG tells me she’s only known one other Fred. He was kind of a ship-board romance (a gross exaggeration, but still…) years ago. She liked him ‘cos he could play the piano.

I can’t play the piano.

What’s that you’re thinking? (I mostly know what humans are thinking). This is a defeatist attitude Freddie. Why not give it a try?. Well, I have. Truly. I’ll explain, but first I have to tell you about the Other Place, in future known as Opie (not Odie. He’s something completely different).

I stay there from time to time, when GG goes away.

JAMMIN’

Other cats can jam, I hear. There’s even a piece of music called ‘Kitten on the Keys’. I tried a few trips across the keys. Nothing. No sound at all, even though I tap danced on both the white and the black.
I wonder how the two boys do it? I mean, very occasionally they prop up a sheet of paper with black squiggles on it, lean forward so their nose is close, touch the keys and boom, shalala, tweedly-dee… music!!!
Their mom calls it practising. She wishes they’d do it more often, but me? Hmm. Not so sure. I mean, is that music to my ears??
Cheryl’s my other guardian and I love her too. It’s a busy house, where she lives. Two cats are in residence there. Talk about black and white… one of them could lie down on the keyboard and pretend to be part of it. Her name’s Misty. Go figure! Yes, kind of confusing but I’m told she was grey when she was little. Grew out black and white, and now she just looks as if she’s overdue for a retouch at the furdresser.
The other resident cat is Cookie. Not that I’ve every seen her produce any meals. Sometimes I get in trouble because I bug her. Secretly, I am a bit obsessed with her. She’s a mix of white and ginger and brown and sometimes I wonder if maybe my mother looked like her. I mean, don’t all orphans always look for their birth mother? I consider her my substitute and will likely continue my bad bugging behaviour next time I visit.

In the miaowtime, here's a pic of me as a kitten. i.e. when GG first brought me home.

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