Should anyone need proof of Freddie's existence, PM me your address and I will snail mail the contents of his litter box.

He is actually Fred II. His namesake is written up in the veterinary annals of NYC as the cat thrown out the most clinics in one year. Nasty Son Of A Bitch but he was my Fred - I have the scars to prove it and his litter box is long gone.

Poor Fred spent years darting out the apartment door hoping to make it to freedom. The night before he went to that Great Kitty Litter in the Sky, I took him outside where he filled a hated neighbor's garden with diarrhea and then proceeded to hunt for imaginary birds. I swear to you - he found one in the ground cover and was as startled as the bird. Fred dropped it and off it took. Next day, Fred was gone and the following morning I found a dead bird at the back door. That never happened before or since and I choose to believe that it was a token of love and respect from my friend.

Now Ron I know peolpe can't come back from the dead but what about cats?