I hadn’t heard of a therapy cat ‘til I met Max Robinson. Yep, I said “cat.” I KNOW! You don’t think of cats like that, right? But it’s a cool story, ’specially for Christmas.
Max and his sister, Bella, are Ragdoll cats, which I also never heard of. So I Googled. Ragdolls are big and have long, soft fur, like bunnies. They come mostly in white, with different colored trim. The reason they’re called Ragdolls is ’cuz when humans pick ’em up, they don’t squirm or jump down, they just go all flopsy.
Max and Bella go with their human Mom, Janice, whenever she visits her Mom, Sheila, who lives in a nice big place with lots of other senior humans. There’s a big front room with a fireplace where they can relax or read or watch TV or have their families come visit. It was all decorated for Christmas, and that’s where I yapped with Max. We arrived a little early so we waited on a couch by the fireplace.
Pretty soon a lady came in pushing a covered baby carriage. She came right up to us and unzipped the cover. A big white fluffy cat wearing a blue halter jumped out and came right over to me, not nervous or anything.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Bonzo. I’m Max Robinson. This is my Mom and this – c’mon, Bella – is my sister Bella. She’s shy.” Another fluffy cat peeked timidly out of the carriage, then daintily stepped out. She was smaller than Max, with a lot of grey fur.
“It’s a pleasure to me you,” I told them. Then, to Max, “I understand you have a Christmas story for me.”
“Yes, indeed I do,” she replied. “Dorothy should be here soon.”
“Dorothy?”
“Yes, she lives here. She’s a special human friend of mine and she’s the reason for this story. While we’re waiting, I’ll give you a little background. We’re getting on now – I’m 12, and Bella’s 13. Mom adopted us four years ago. The humans who run this place really understand how much us pets can help people, ’specially when they’re alone or feeling sick or gloomy. So they let us come visit.
“It’s hard to believe, Bonzo, but the very first time we came here to visit our human grandma, and the people were SO happy to see us, I realized I could do something that was more important than the usual cat stuff … meowing, grooming, purring, chasing lizards, pretending we don’t care one little bit if our humans are around or not. (Between you and me, that’s a bunch of hooey anyway. We get really sad when they’re away, but the Cat Code doesn’t let us admit it.)
“No woof!” I blurted. “I had No Idea!”
Max’s Mom had been busy putting a green jingle bell collar and a red and white Santa hat on him. I was impressed that he didn’t object, but he told me it wasn’t his first Cat Show. “Three years ago, my Mom dressed me up like Harry Potter, with glasses and everything, for a PetSmart costume contest. And, I WON.”
Just then a lady came into the room, pushing a wheelchair. The lady in it had one of the nicest smiles I’d ever seen on a human. When she spotted Max, she held out her arms, and Max jumped into her lap. “This is Dorothy!” He snuggled happily and, as he continued his story, Dorothy stroked his head and crooned a very soft little cat song.
“Dorothy and I have a special connection. We talk in a Cat Language most humans don’t understand. Whenever our Mom brings us, Dorothy stays up later than usual so she can come down to pat me. On other nights, she stays in her apartment.
“Well, last year, the week before Christmas, Mom brought us to visit and Dorothy came down to see me as usual. I jumped into her lap and she started patting me, just like always. It was lovely. Then she just suddenly stopped. Her hand flopped off me. I looked up and her head had fallen back and her eyes were closed. I didn’t know what was wrong. I nudged her hand and meowed but she didn’t wake up.
“Then there was a whole bunch of humans all over the place, talking in voices that sorta scared me. Someone picked me up and put me by my carriage. I heard sirens. Then the humans carefully carried Dorothy out the front door to a big red truck with flashing lights. They put her in it and roared off.”
“Oh, wow, you musta been so worried,” I said.
“I WAS. Later I found out she had had a heart attack. It seemed like forever before she finally came back. I was so happy to see her again. Ever since then, she calls me her Christmas Angel.
“She says the last thing she remembered was big, white, fluffy me. The next thing she knew, she was in the hospital. Dorothy says if it wasn’t for coming downstairs to visit with me, she would have been alone in her room when she had her heart attack and she wouldn’t even be here at all this Christmas.
“So now I’m an official Therapy Cat. I love coming here and making people happy.”
Heading home, I was thinking that probably angels come in all sorts of shapes and sizes. And it wasn’t hard to believe that, for Dorothy, Max really was her Special Christmas Angel.
Till next time,
The Bonz