Once upon a time, there was a little puppy named Fredric. He lived with his owner in Happy Valley, in a medium-sized apartment that was huge by Hong Kong standards. It was a sixth-floor walk-up, which really blows. But apart from that, it was lovely.
Fredric was a very sociable pooch who wanted to be friends with everybody and everything he encountered.
He wanted to be friends with all the dogs he walked past on the street, even when they clearly did not want to be friends with him. Often, his owner had to jump in to save him from attack, but that did not stop Fredric from trying. He never seemed to learn his lesson.
He wanted to be friends with all the people he walked past on the street, even when they clearly did not want to be friends with him. Like, even when the people shrieked in terror and recoiled in fear—as if he were a ferocious lion on a leash instead of an adorably sweet puppy—Fredric would still run up, tail wagging, to say hello.
He wanted to be friends with the cat who lived on Yuk Sau Street, even though this cat clearly did not want to be friends with him. She would hiss and scratch at the air whenever Fredric approached, but that did not stop him from trying. Seriously, Fredric... that cat will never be your friend.
Yet sometimes, Fredric's attempts to make friends were successful.
He made friends with the hostess at the dim sum restaurant around the corner from his flat, and every time Fredric and his owner walked by—literally, every single time—they would stop and chat with her. But she was a very nice lady, so this was OK.
He made friends with the patrons seated outside at the Happy Valley Bar and Grill. And if he played his cards right, he could even use his cute puppy eyes to convince them to sneak him table scraps. Sometimes, if his owner happened to be in a rush, he'd have to find a roundabout way to get home to avoid passing by, for fear of being late for whatever it happened to be he was doing that night.
In short, Fredric simply adored making friends.
But one day, his owner brought around a new friend... This new friend actually lived in a box on the top shelf of the spare room, and he only came out to say hello for about one month each year. His name was Douglas Fir, and he was a Christmas tree.
Each and every December, Fredric's owner would bring Douglas out of his box and put him together. He'd spend a great deal of time arranging the branches, untangling the lights and festooning the tree with cheap ornaments from Ikea.
At first, Fredric and Douglas did not give each other much attention at all. To please his owner, Fredric would patiently sit in front of the tree and do his best to smile for the camera.
But when his owner left him alone in the flat, Fredric made his first enemy. For to Fredric's eyes, Douglas was not as cool as any of the dogs in the neighborhood. Or any of the timid townspeople. Or the vindictive cat. Or the affable hostess. Or the drunken barflies. And he needed to be destroyed.
And so, many times during the month of December, Fredric's owner would reach the top of six flights of stairs and open his door to this pretty sight:
Thus every evening, upon returning home after a hard day's work, Fredric's increasingly exasperated owner would straighten Douglas up, re-adjust his lights, re-position his star, and re-hang his cheap ornaments. He did this, Fredric presumed, so that he could knock him down all over again tomorrow, which he dependably did.
It seemed as if poor Douglas spent more time lying on the floor that Christmas season than he did standing. And every evening, to please his owner, Fredric would patiently sit in front of the felled Douglas and do his best to smile for the camera.
They continued this way for weeks and weeks until Fredric's owner flew home to New Jersey for Christmas and left the little scalawag with friends who did not have a Christmas tree that he could destroy. And Douglas stood proud and tall and princely in the empty apartment in Happy Valley.
And they all lived happily ever after. Until next December, I guess. Merry Christmas, everybody!
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