Mac came to us in January, from the same rescue I got Lucky, Bugsy and Hope. He had rough time before coming here.... a past of abuse and neglect, and needed a special place to call his forever home.
Without further ado, Meet my precious Mac!
Written by MeLinda Hughes, Merlin Hope Ragdoll Rescue
"I wasn’t always an outside cat. I was loved, I was pampered, I was cuddled. I don’t remember why my people suddenly kicked me outside. Maybe they forgot I didn’t have any claws to protect me; maybe they didn’t care.
I spent weeks trying to find something to eat. People would chase me off with brooms and rakes. I don’t know why. I am a handsome fellow. I’ve been told my flame coat is beautiful and that my eyes are bright blue. I tried to tell the people I saw I needed help, but no one cared. They just chased me away. “Dirty feral,” they would say.
“Feral? I don’t know what that means, but I am not wild,” I thought.
My coat got more and more matted. I could feel it rubbing me raw. It hurt; I was hungry; I was alone; I was angry. The next time someone chased me away from food, I growled back. “Be mean to me, and I’ll be mean back,” I thought.
Then, a man in a uniform came. He had a long stick. I don’t like long sticks, so I tried to run away, but it had a loop on it, and he caught me with a loop around my neck. I fought; I screamed; I growled. Betrayed by my people; betrayed again.
I was shoved in a metal box in a moving box, like the ones that I had to watch to make sure they didn’t hit me. Now, I was stuck in one with no way to get away.
Then, they took me a place that smelled bad. I could smell dogs, like the ones that chased me all the time. I could smell other cats, like the ones that chased me away from food and their yards. I could smell humans, like the ones that tossed me out like garbage.
I was stuck in a metal box with bars on it. Because they said I was aggressive, no one tried to touch me. They stuck a box with litter and food and water in my cage. One human lady tried to be nice to me, but I wasn’t letting her. I don’t like humans; I don’t want anything to do with them. I didn’t know, but she called a lady at a Ragdoll rescue and asked if I might be a Ragdoll. She sent her a picture, and the rescue lady said yes and she would come see me.
I saw her that day. She came and looked at me through my bars. I just huddled in the back. When they tried to pull me out of my metal box, I fought back. I growled, I slapped at them, and I even tried to bite them. I kept at it for 45 minutes.
The rescue lady finally asked everyone to step back and she stuck her head part of the way in my metal box. She told me, “If you don’t come on, I am going to leave you here to die. You WILL die. It’s your choice.”
“Well, fine, maybe I’ll just die,” I thought. “It isn’t like anyone cares.” But she kept looking at me as if she was just waiting for me.
“Fine,” I thought. “I’ll go with her, and I make her miserable.”
So, they finally grabbed me by my scruff. I mean really, how undignified is that? I fought again, but it was too late. They had crammed me in a carrier.
She took me in another moving metal box and then took me and put me in a large cage. I let her know I didn’t like it by biting her. She came two or three times a day, every day, to feed me and to talk to me. I watched her walk by and play with the other cats, but I didn’t want any of that. I had had my own humans and look what they did to me.
She kept on, finally sticking her hands in the cage. I bit her again and again. I didn’t need her touching me; I didn’t want her touching me. I noticed that she wore long sleeves all the time to cover up my bites. HA! I’ll teach her to bother me.
One day, I heard her talking on the phone. “I just don’t know how much more I can take,” she said. “I don’t dare let him out of the cat condo, because I won’t be able to catch him. I don’t think he is ever going to settle down, and he needs to be groomed, but I can’t even touch him.”
The next time she came I bit her even harder. Maybe she would just give up on me like everyone else had.
Then, torture of all torture was coming my way. She opened the door, threw a blanket over me, and wrapped me up like a cat burrito. Seriously! I tried to kill her, but she threw part of the blanket over my face, so I couldn’t bite her, crammed me in a carrier, and dumped me at a stinky office.
Yes, I had been betrayed and dumped again. Someone made me sleep, and when I woke up I discovered my complete betrayal: THEY STOLE MY HAIR! I mean, really.
It’s not bad enough she was torturing me, but now she had someone take off my hair, my beautiful hair. I mean it was dirty and it had bugs and leaves in it, but it was MY hair.
I heard the vet say, “He has a lot of hot spots. You are going to need to put medicine on it.” She laughed, “Are you kidding? I can’t even touch him.”
When she brought me home, she put me back in the cage and told me, “I am so sorry. I know it hurts. Why don’t I give you some canned food?”
I didn’t remember what canned food was, but seriously, it smelled good. I reached out, slapped her hand, and used my paw to pull the bowl toward me.
“Oh, you like that, do you?” she said. “Well, if you want it, you are going to have to eat it while I am holding it.” She made me do it every time I wanted food. Seriously, it was embarrassing, but it smelled really, really good. I could do it.
Then, she started TOUCHING me. I tried to bite her, but she pulled my food back. Really, what kind of devil was she? Stealing my food from me? Fine, she could pet me while she was holding my food.
Well, all right, maybe she could pet me while she wasn’t holding my food. She started telling people she thought I might make it. She gave me my own room. It was pink, which is not manly, but fine, at least I had my own room. Then, one day, she opened the door and all these cats came in and started sniffing me. I growled at them, but they just ignored me. Fine, I would come out then. At least I wasn’t in that pink room anymore.
One day, I jumped up on the cabinet, and she patted her shoulders. I jumped up and put my paws on her shoulders and just looked at her in the face, and she cried, really cried. Silly woman, I have no idea what her problem is. I bite her; she just keeps on talking to me; I do something nice and she cries. Those weird humans.
Finally, she told me that she had found me the perfect home where I would be my own boss. I would have to share my new human with three other cats, but I would be happy there, and you know what, humans, I AM! I have been in my new home for several months, and I have a new brother, Bugsy, and two new sisters, Hope and Lucky. I even have a new name: Mac. I am not MacGrumpy anymore. I am MacCreamy, but you can call me Mac. I have a new name for a new life.
My new mommy takes pictures and makes videos of us all the time. She even made it so we can go in her backyard and play. I have learned that not all humans betray you. Some of them just love you."