Waiting for a prescription one day, I wandered over to the store’s bulletin board. On it was an ad: “FREE Ragdoll.” I’d wanted a Rag since I met one in the mid-90s, but free? Yeah, right. I copied the info off the ad anyway and called when I got home. Turned out they were real, purebred and TICA-registered Rags; their breeder (Sandie Gorski, Ragsink) was retiring and looking to rehome some of her cats. I had intended to adopt Ragsink Rebecca, but Sandie advised me that Becky had dominance issues (in a Rag, how funny) and tended to mark when other cats were present. I was severely disappointed as I already had a very old black cat, a younger Persian girl, and a young Tortie.
“But,” Sandie said, “I’m also wanting to rehome Becky’s daughter, Charlotte. She’s very sweet and has no issues at all. She’s 10 months old, seal-point mitted.” I made an appointment to meet Charlotte after picking my daughter up from school. The instant we met her, we were smitten (and all nine of Sandie’s Rags came out to greet us – fluff overload!). Sandie also gave us some of Charlotte’s food and toys to take home with her.
As she settled into the household and her personality became more evident, we decided that “Charlotte” is way too formal for her silly, playful nature. She’s a Charlie.
Charlie is an empath and healer. She instantly knows when someone in the house is stressed or unwell and does her best to make them better. Every time I’ve received bad news (you’re fired, the estimate to fix your car is $900, your daughter is flunking out of school, etc), she’s been there within literally
seconds, purring her breathy little purr and gently headbutting me in the ribs, kneading on my back, or loafing with her front paws on my leg. When Knack, the very old black cat and my longest and best friend, went blind, she would guide him around the house and keep him out of danger. She adjusted her schedule to his
and slept beside him with one arm draped over him, or touching his paws with hers. When he passed away in November 2009, she claimed his blanket and cushion and still sleeps on it every day.
In the spring and summer of 2009, I fostered a litter of kittens (not much choice, as they were born on the patio). Even though Charlie has never had
babies of her own, she instantly adopted the four little troublemakers and raised them all from sickly little runts to huge, healthy, and loving cats. When the kids went to their forever home, poor Charlie was heartbroken. Fortunately(?), there are enough irresponsible humans around here to ensure she has a never-ending supply of babies.
I could go on for hours about Charlie’s awesomeness. She’s gorgeous, sweet, silly, loving, and just simply perfect. I wish I had ten more just like her. As far as I’m concerned, she’s Ragdoll of the Century.