This Makes Me Happy: Rumplestilskin

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about Gizmo, the youngest of our three cats. I love them all equally, so today, I would like to tell you about Rumplestilskin, our oldest.

Looking dapper in his Star Wars tie

In August of 2013, my cat Penelope passed away. She was 16 years old, having lived with me since she was six months old. I took it pretty hard, and wasn’t sure I could ever live with another cat again. However, in the fall of 2013, we fostered a group of kittens for the first time, at my wife’s insistence. We gave them all up for adoption, but having them in the house made me realize that I could love another cat again.

At the time, we also had two birds in the house. Penelope had been pretty mellow towards the birds; we could have our parrot out of his cage, and Penelope pretty much ignored him. With the kittens, it became apparent that wasn’t the case; the first time they saw him, they tried to jump up and hang onto the side of the cage to get closer. After doing some research, we felt that a ragdoll cat would be the best choice for us if we were keeping the bird. Ragdolls are named because when you pick them up, they just go limp in your arms, like a ragdoll. They also have almost no hunting instinct.

We didn’t expect to be able to adopt a stray ragdoll, even though we wanted to rescue a cat from a shelter if we could. Ragdolls don’t show up for adoption that often, so we thought we’d need to purchase one from a breeder. However, on December 26, 2013, we saw a 5 year old ragdoll show up on the local SPCA’s Facebook feed. The next morning, we raced down to see if he was available for adoption. He was, so we immediately brought him home.

On the phone

The shelter named him Rumplestilskin, which my wife insisted we would change. We didn’t. When I held him for the first time at the shelter, he didn’t go limp. He struggled and tried to bite me. We figured he was just scared. He wasn’t. Once we had him at home for a few days, it was clear that he wasn’t anything like we had read typical ragdolls behaved. He didn’t want to sit on our laps. He tried to jump up onto the side of the parrot cage. He loved to play and hated to be held. We couldn’t hold him for more than 15 or 20 seconds without him struggling free.

King of the toys

We didn’t care. We loved him, and while he wasn’t affectionate in the way that we had read ragdolls were, he made it clear that he loved us back. For those first few weeks, while he wouldn’t sit on our laps, he slept in our bed with us. He wouldn’t cuddle up to us but he followed us from room to room. When we sat watching TV, he would come into the room and sit on the floor about five feet away. We joked that that was his version of sitting on our laps.

He was, and is, very inquisitive and adventurous. Of our three cats, he is the one most able to jump and climb the highest, and usually does. He always has to get into cabinets and cupboards. And he still loves to play.

Relaxing with a beer

He enjoys playing with his toys, and often gathers them altogether. He also loves playing with the other cats. When we adopted Morticia, Rumple immediately wanted to play with her. Unfortunately, she didn’t want to play with him, and he didn’t seem to understand that. This led to some friction that persists to this day.

Because his behavior is so atypical for his breed, and because of his apparent inability to communicate with Morticia, we have speculated about his background. He was apparently found as a stray, not microchipped or neutered, at the age of five years old. However, he isn’t a very aggressive cat, so we find it hard to believe he was a stray for five years. We believe he was probably taken from his mommy too soon, before she could teach him how to be a cat, and was kept as a breeding male. To us, that explains his awkward socialization skills without behaving like a feral cat. We see him doing weird things sometimes, like scraping at the sand in the litter box without actually burying anything. We’ve read that cats do this when they haven’t been taught how to bury their poop, and just know that they’re supposed to be doing something, even if they’re not sure what.

When we adopted Gizmo, Rumplestilskin immediately took to his younger brother. They play together, and clearly love each other, as much as two cats who aren’t from the same litter can. Adopting Gizmo was a good decision for us, a good decision for him, and a good decision for Rumplestilskin.

In the last year or so, Rumplestilskin has grown more affectionate towards us. Most nights, he comes into our bed around three or four in the morning, and snuggles up to me. While he’s still not a lap cat, he will come and lay on my chest when we are watching TV. He’s not a small cat—he’s just a couple pounds lighter than Gizmo—but I’d rather put up with him on my chest than not snuggling up to me at all.

Sometimes, I wonder what would have happened if a different family had adopted Rumplestilskin, expecting a typical ragdoll. Would they have been patient and accepted him for who he is, rather than what they wanted him to be? Or would they have brought him back to the shelter, disappointed? Every day, I am happy that we adopted him. We love him, and wouldn’t want him to behave any other way. Okay, if I’m honest, I wish he and Morticia wouldn’t fight so much, and I wish he wouldn’t do things like come too close to the stove while it’s burning. But mostly, we wouldn’t have him any other way.