As we drove up to the house on Monday afternoon we noticed something laying in front of our garage door. As we approached it didn't move, but I could tell it was a cat. A very unhappy cat. He was skin and bones and what fur wasn't missing was filthy and matted and he was covered in fleas. I had to move him so we could pull the car into the garage, and after we put away our groceries I got out the cat carrier and we took him to the vet. From the belly bulge we were afraid he was a she and she was pregnant, but it turned out to be feces. He was a bit dehydrated. After two nights at the vet, a shave, an enema and some medicine he is a new man. We brought him home today. Our cat Jasmine is a little put out, but she can tell that he is in no shape to challenge her, so her response has been pretty subdued. A little growling and hissing, but no puffed tail, no aggressive moves. He is still very weak, but he is also very happy. I don't think he has stopped purring, not even while he was eating, which he does with enthusiasm. As to his name, well, when we thought he was a she we were going to name her Ginger, given the coloring. When they told us she was a he we had to come up with a new name, so I looked at my husband and said, "Well, if it isn't Ginger, it must be Fred." For those readers who are not classic film fans, I am of course referring to Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers.