Frederick Lawrence

In Loving Memory of FrederickLawrence 4-25-2009 – 10-28-2026

 My siblings and I were born in the back yard’s ground cover. Our parents called us Tumbleweeds because we came tumbling from every direction when called. Daddy loved recalling how we raced through the yard when he shook our food bag—up the banana trees, back down, and onto the back deck to eat. I was a gentle giant—a big, handsome fella, dapper in my tuxedo and too dignified for catnip mice, strings, or balls. But a laser light sent me racing after that elusive red dot. I loved basking for hours in sunshine by a window, the back door, or across the floor. Most of all, I loved my Skin Daddy: his songs, our deep conversations, head scratches, and tummy rubs. We were “Mans Together.” Last year, Daddy went to heaven after going to the garage to work on his car and never coming back inside. My health gradually declined, and, afraid of losing Skin Mommy too, I became her little shadow. Mommy did all she could to keep me healthy, happy, and comfortable until she knew it was time to let me go. Please don’t cry, Mommy. You gave me a loving home and a wonderful life. I’m healthy and pain-free now, “Mans Together” with Skin Daddy as he sings “Sharp Dressed Man” to me again. I’ll be anxiously waiting until we’re all together again.