fred and fred

I had some anxiety leaving my dog Fred for close to a month while I travelled. My friend, Frederika from Johannesburg, had offered to move in and dog sit.

They go back a long way. Fred and Fred.

A week into my travels I received a text.

"Slipped on seaweed and think I’ve broken my ankle. In agony, on way to ER."

Oh no I thought. This is terrible for Frederika. And not great for Fred either.

A few hours later, another text.

"Need surgery. Gonna be in hospital for at least five days. Don’t worry about Fred, we getting sorted."

I was en route to Edinburgh, trying to admire the Scottish highlands, all green and halcyon and pretty but also - who was going to look after my dog? He is cute and charming, if a bit neurotic. He insists on carrying his leash on walks, only eats when there's chopped liver in the mix ( it must be from Kleinskys) and he has some unusual habits.

He’s a bit of a control freak.

Indulged, one might say.

I had briefed Frederika thoroughly, he needs this and he needs that, but now she was on morphine and pethidine and all things lovely and from 14 thousand kms away, plans felt a bit hazy.

What to do?

I called a friend who had always offered to be the back up. "You don’t have to answer now." I said. "Think about it. But how would you feel if Fred comes and stays with you and your dogs for a few days, maybe a week, maybe more."

She has four fabulous Dachshunds.

"OF COURSE," she said. " He can come live with us immediately, I will fetch him right now."

She did not hesitate for a moment and sent me a pic of her dogs, snoozing in sunbeams on her bed.

But it was a big ask. And was it the best thing for Fred? I did not know.

In the meantime, while Frederika was in surgery, Fred was hanging in the communal garden of our flats. He was with Bongani, the caretaker, enjoying the sunshine, helping with the raking, digging up the flower beds.

I chatted to Bongani.

"He can hang with me in the day," he said. "But you know I go home at night."

And then the messages from the neighbours started pouring in.

Audrey: "Don’t worry about Fred, I can feed him and let him in and out, it’s easy for me."

Sanele: "Fred ambled over for a visit. I have given him some chicken and now we're off for a walk."

Ant: "Heard the news. I am not that good with dogs but if you need me to do anything, let me know."

Heidi: "Heading to the beach at four, your dog is keen to swim, can I take him?"

I smiled at that one; Fred hates the beach but hey, THEY BONDED!

The last message of the day was from Sanele:

"It seems like Fred does not want to go home. He won’t leave my flat so I have fetched his bed, put it next to mine and we are going to sleep."

A Fred Care Group was set up with a roster for keys, food and walks. There was even mention of a bath.

My dog had made the decision what to do. He was staying home, in the block of flats that he knew. And his needs were simple. They were not about the liver or the leash. They were about the people, the ones he knew and recognised. That was what he wanted.

Frederika had her community rallying around her while she was in hospital.

Fred has his community rallying around him.

And I had mine, friends who offered to help him, take him, love him.

I am back home now. My dog is delighted to see me but is still hanging in the garden with Bongani and I have to bribe him to come home at night from Sanele. I think he is worried I might go again.

He’s keeping his options open.