How Did My Cat Lose His Meow

How Did My Cat Lose His Meow

How Did My Cat Lose His Meow


House panthers are not unlucky in any way, in fact I believe them to be far more Luck than Not. Freward Starr is my 18.7 pound house panther, and he is truly a work of art. I am lucky to know him. His black fur is speckled with singular white hairs, less like salt than stars in the sky. Golden eyes stare at you with confidence. The chin of a roman hero, his facial expression rests with a certain haughtiness. Fred holds his head high, and talks to me about everything, absolutely everything. He has a very distinct “meow.” and knows the cadence of human conversation. In call and response, you can have quite the dialogue with Mr. Fred. 


Never have I ever had a cat love me as fiercely as my Fredward loves me. His nightly routine of sliding into my arms, tight as a teddy bear, is nothing like the too-cool attitude he gives the rest of the world. Graced with his affection, I worry about him outside, out of my view. Winters are cold here, with a deep, biting freeze at night. Hunter by nature, my beast stays out as long as he can stand it, thus his fur has grown thick like mink fur. Petting him feels sinful, like I am gifted a luxury most people won’t understand. 


If I need his attention, and seek to bring him over to wherever I may be at the time, I need only shout. Strange, I laugh every time, as I call loudly, over and over, non-stop like a toddler yelling for its supper, “Fred, Freddy, Fred, Freddy Fred-Fred, Freddy, Fred!” he will invariably poke his head around whatever corner and glare at me. With a great sigh, he will walk over to me, and give me a solid head butt, after which he will flop over, revealing his belly.


Yes, Freward loves to have his belly rubbed. Back and forth, every which way. Up or down it doesn’t matter. He likes to have his whole body held close, under the covers, his torso pressed against mine. The peace of a cat falling into deep sleep in your arms, is unlike anything else. The sureness of the safety, the security of absolute trust, the respect of restful watching eyes that close. When he twitches softly in his dreams, my heart beats faster. 


The other day Fred looked at me, and tried to meow. Nothing came out, no sound at all. Not even a whisper. I was stunned, where did his meow go? How has my boy lost his meow? With no signs of stress or injury, I had no ideas. I wished he could tell me if he suffered, and my anxiety skyrocketed as I searched google for possible answers. After sourcing some emergency funds with a dear kind friend, we took Fredward to the vet. 


With testing and x-rays, careful prodding and poking, not even the vet could determine what had taken my kitty’s voice. We were sent home, silent as ever, with no answers. I bought him salmon oil, l-lysine, and hairball remedy. Thinking of that everything could help, and it surely wouldn’t hurt to try. It took two weeks, but my main man has found his voice again. We converse like we used to, and nothing is different. We will never truly know how my cat lost his meow. 






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