“So, are you lost or not?” The dog hesitated, then nodded and gave a pathetic whimper.
“You poor thing,” said Lotta with a sigh. “I know what it’s like when you’re lost. There you are, all alone, afraid, cold, hungry. And at night when it gets dark in the woods you start to cry. That’s when the ghosts come out screaming and rustling and rattling and haunting.” “How do you know all that?” asked the dog. “That’s what the carrier pigeon told me last year,” replied Lotta. “She got lost and forgot where she belonged. Getting lost is just like getting lost.” The dog nodded.