The three words today are:
PLAY
BALL
BORED
Freedom Freeda and the Great Backyard Adventure
Once upon a time, in a cozy little neighborhood, lived a spirited dachshund named Freedom Freeda. She was long, low, and always on the go. Freeda wasn’t just any pup—she was a freedom-loving, tail-wagging, grass-sniffing adventurer who hated one thing more than baths: being BORED.
One sunny afternoon, Freeda sat by the back door, her snout resting on the glass.
“Ugh,” she sighed, watching a leaf skitter across the patio. “I’m so… BORED.”
Her humans were busy typing on glowing rectangles again—click click click—ignoring her desperate whines and tail wags. She tried the “head-tilt-of-cuteness,” but it didn’t work.
Just as she was about to nap out of sheer despair, a magic sound echoed through the house:
“PLAY BALL?”
Freeda’s ears shot up like radar dishes. Her human had finally said the sacred words! She bolted upright, paws skidding on the tile, and did her patented Freedom Freeda Happy Wiggle Dance. She barked once. Loudly. “YES, PLAY BALL! NOW!”
Outside they went, into the backyard, which Freeda believed was her personal kingdom. Her human held up the bright green tennis ball.
“Ready, Freeda?” they called.
But Freeda was already halfway across the yard, barking, “I WAS BORN READY.”
The ball soared.
So did Freeda. Well… as much as a dachshund can soar. Her legs may have been tiny, but her heart was limitless. She chased that ball with the spirit of a lion and the zoomies of a caffeinated squirrel.
But then… it happened.
The ball rolled under the deck.
Freeda froze. Her eyes narrowed. This was no longer playtime. This was a mission.
With a dramatic sniff and a tail swish, she dropped to her belly and shimmied under the deck like a sausage-shaped spy.
It was dark. Dusty. Full of mysterious smells. But Freeda didn’t care. She was Freedom Freeda, and she never left a ball behind.
With a triumphant bark! And tail thumping like a drum roll, she emerged, ball in mouth, covered in cobwebs but victorious.
Her human clapped. “Good girl, Freeda!”
And Freeda? She dropped the ball, gave a heroic bark, and stared up with those shiny brown eyes.
“Again?” she asked.
Thank-you for reading.
Much Love and Light,
Brenda Marie
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I love to see dogs play. Maya will chase a ball, raggy or frisbee then charge everywhere with it in her mouth, except back to us, unless just to show us and run off again.
Kizzy, the GSD I had when Hubby and I first met, was the other way with an attitude of your threw it, you fetch it!
Thanks for weaving in the 3TC with Freeda’s fun.