
One Sunday afternoon, Freya’s mummy says, “Let’s visit Granny. She’ll be so pleased to meet Poppy properly.”
Freya grins. “Yes! But what about Misty? Will she like Poppy?”
Her mummy thinks for a moment. “I suppose Misty might be a bit unsure at first. But we’ll help Poppy learn to be gentle.”
They set off, with Poppy trotting happily beside them.
When they arrive, Granny opens the door with a warm smile.
“Hello, my dears! And hello, Poppy!” she says, bending down to stroke her soft fur.
Inside, the house smells of lavender and freshly baked biscuits.
Freya spots Misty perched on the windowsill, her eyes fixed on Poppy.
Poppy notices Misty too.
Before anyone can say a word, she lets out an excited bark and darts toward her.
Misty’s fur puffs up like a giant ball of fluff.
With an alarmed “Miow!” she leaps onto the armchair and glares down at Poppy.
Freya quickly picks up Poppy’s lead. “Poppy, we have to be gentle!”

Granny chuckles softly.
“Misty likes things peaceful and quiet. Cats and dogs often don’t get on at first. But puppies learn quickly. If Poppy keeps being gentle, Misty will soon get used to her.”
They sit down for tea and biscuits.
Poppy still wants to play, but Freya strokes her gently.
“If you sit quietly, she might not be scared of you.”
But Poppy’s nose has already found something far more interesting — the smell of freshly baked biscuits. She forgets all about Granny’s cat.
Meanwhile, Misty settles herself on top of the armchair.
She no longer looks quite so worried, but she is still keeping an eye on everything.

When it is time to leave, Granny gives Freya and Mummy a hug and strokes Poppy gently.
“Come and visit again soon,” she says with a smile.
“I think Misty and Poppy will get to know one another a little better each time.”
On the way home, Freya smiles down at Poppy.
“You were lying down quietly by the end. Well done. Next time, perhaps Misty won’t be quite so scared.”
Poppy wags her tail proudly.
And Freya is pleased too. She knows that good friendships — whether between people or animals — sometimes take a little time to grow.
