Ragamuffin

The Ragamuffin bears a name that means “ragged one,” “tatterdemalion” — and it is the most perverse name in the whole feline world, because it is hard to find a cat less ragged than it. This is a large, fluffy giant with semi-long, silky fur, a round, sweet face, and great hazelnut-shaped eyes that look at you with an expression of unceasing, gentle goodwill. But do not be fooled by that angelic little face: the Ragamuffin is a cat that takes matters into its own paws. You come into the house — it is already at the door. You sit down — you already have nine kilograms of a determined companion on your lap. You work — it has just lain down on the keyboard and looks at you as if it were doing you a favor. Only someone who did it out of spite could call such a self-assured opportunist a “tatterdemalion.” And that is exactly how it was.

Because the Ragamuffin was born of rebellion — and its history is one of the most dramatic tales in the world of cats. In the 1960s the breeder Ann Baker created the Ragdoll breed and covered it with a patent so iron-clad and restrictive that some breeders could not endure its rigors. In the early 1990s a group of them decided to leave and go their own way — but because the very name “Ragdoll” was legally reserved, they were not allowed to use it. In a gesture of defiance they gave their new breed a provocatively perverse name: Ragamuffin, that is, ragged one. This act of feline rebellion turned out to be a bull's-eye — the breeders broadened the gene pool, thanks to which the Ragamuffin gained vigor, health, and a whole palette of colorings its ancestor never had. From an act of protest was born one of the most affectionate cats that ever lived with a human.

Because although the Ragamuffin is gentle to the limit — patient with children, forbearing toward other animals, completely devoid of aggression — its affection is not passive. This is not a cat that waits for you to pet it; it is a cat that will exact that petting. It follows you from room to room like a great, fluffy shadow, pushes its head under your hand the moment you lower it, and has a habit of jumping into every occupied spot, as if its presence were an obvious element of every activity of yours. The Ragamuffin does not ask for attention — it organizes it: discreetly, stubbornly, and with the unshakable certainty that the best place in the whole house is exactly the one you happen to be occupying. Its greatest pleasure is being carried in your arms like a baby, belly up — and it demands that position with disarming consistency.

But this boundless trust has its price and its condition: the Ragamuffin is so gentle and so incautious that it completely cannot cope in the outside world. It does not have a shred of the vigilance of a street cat — a strange dog or a car it would treat with the same naive warmth as a household member. That is why the Ragamuffin must be an exclusively indoor cat, and its trust imposes on you a real duty: to become its entire safe world. In return you get a companion that has chosen you as its whole world and exacts that choice every day — treading on your heels, occupying your lap, and greeting you at the doorway as if you had returned from a war, every single time.

Because the Ragamuffin is the most beautiful proof that tenderness can be born of rebellion: a cat named a ragged one in defiance, which grew into one of the gentlest, most loving companions a human can have.

Take it once in your arms, belly up, and feel how it relaxes with a trust that in the feline world usually has to be long earned — and it will give you all of it, from the first day. This tatterdemalion carries within it the greatest treasure a cat can offer: a heart that gives itself without reserve and without any conditions. Your task is only one — to be worthy of it.