My Sweet Prince

Fred. Where to start?
Several years ago, David and I were out in the front yard and he said to me "Something died over on top of the electrical box" As we got closer, a scraggly stray lifted his head and meowed at us. And Fred entered our lives, just like that. I was adamant about NOT adopting another cat- we already had our quota, I thought and this one was scraggly and unkept. Fred would not give up, he hung around, waiting me out. Finally, one dreary day by sympathy for him overtook my good sense, and I took him to the vet for his first check up and invited him in. Let me say, Fred cleaned up well. The first visit to the vet she checked him several times, her disbelief that he wasn't chipped my first indication that perhaps he wasn't just a scraggly ragbag. He was in fact, a ragdoll- long luxurious fur that felt more like angora then cat hair. Crystalline blue eyes, and low muscle tone- he literally looked boneless when resting. He was neutered (yaaay!) and declawed (Boooo!) when we got him and the declaw apparently gave him phantom pain as he was forever sharpening those nonexistent claws. We had him tested for Feline diseases, immunized and de-fleaed and let him into our home, family and hearts.
Along with his matted hair, he had walked holes in his paws to get to us- the pads took over a year to heal even a little and he forever after walked delicately, as if the eggshells under him could break at any moment. He walked as little as possible in fact, earning him the title of 'decorative pillow with a heartbeat'.
We had no idea what his name was, so in a fit of whimsey, I named him Fred after the Bob & Tom Show song with the line "His name was... We didn't know what his name was, so we called him Fred!" A silly name for a Royal cat, but it stuck, and he never seemed to mind it. We never did learn where he had come from. There were many theories, but we suspect he was the cat of an elderly relative that somehow got lost or thrown out after she died. He showed signs of overbreeding, and always expected the worst from most people, but slowly he gained trust in us, and I would like to think affections and love.
From the start, he was a prickly character who took revenge against those who displeased him with princely vengeance.
He decided early on that I was his person and he even got into a battle of wills with David about sharing me which got him banned from our bedroom for taking revenge directly ON David's pillow. Ahem. The children he tolerated, despite the fact that it had been their begging that got him in the house in the first place. Instead I was his long before he was mine. He followed me, and his favorite perch was next to my computer, with his head on my 'mouse hand'. If I was not giving him what he thought was his due amount of attention, he would gently nip me, the nips getting progressively stronger, until I put my homework aside, and admired His Excellency. This makes him sound aloof and cold- well he could be. But he loved me with a depth that still brings tears to my eyes. His purr was rusty with disuse, but when I heard it, it always ALWAYS made me smile. His presence was desired and cherished.
There is a quote from The Little Prince by the wise old fox "Les hommes ont oublié cette vérité, dit le renard. Mais tu ne dois pas l’oublier. Tu deviens responsible pour toujours de ce que tu as apprivoisé." which means "Men have forgotten this truth," said the fox. "But you must not forget it. You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed."
And so, I propose the idea that Fred tamed ME. Through the daily rituals of shared life, over several years. Remember, I did not WANT him at first. And now I wish he was back with all my heart.
This fall we had a flea epidemic at the house. I tried everything I could think of to get rid of the fleas, including all the organic measures I know or could look up, as well as Frontline, and collars. We still have the $%^& things. Seriously. Diamtaceous Earth has helped the most, but not killed them all, and Fred hated it. At one point I put some flea treatment on everyone, and put them on the front porch to reclean the house and let the fleas hop off outside and Fred remembered the outside. He had not willingly gone outside in years- I suspect he was afraid we would not let him back inside. So he started asking to go outside, coming in only at night. He had several favorite perches outside, under the gum tree, and in my garden next to a frog shaped planter. I worried about him outside, claw-less as he is, and everything managed to get stuck in his soft fur. He seemed happy outside, but was getting thinner which he really could not afford. He wasn't acting sick so I talked myself into thinking that it was just his new fascination with outside. We assumed when winter hit, he would come in and we could fatten him up then. Suddenly he took a major turn for the worse, and there was no return- renal failure was quick. It was fast and dizzying- he was with us and now he is gone. I will never be the same, and we are all the better for having known our mysterious royal visitor. Be well, sweet prince and may your days be filled with the royal treatment you so deserve- I will never see cotton, or blue skies again without thinking of you with love and yearning.