The world is on the brink of a critical error.

We are at risk of underestimating Rori.

My friends, this cannot be.

This looming catastrophe is no fault of Rori‘s. That should go without saying. Nothing has ever been the fault of a cat.

When Hips knocks over the candy dish, it is not Hips’ fault that Starbursts spatter the floor. It is the fault of Starbursts for not learning to fly.

When Olive performs a new genre called “acid opera” for staff members expressing her bladder, it is not Olive’s fault that these staff members subsequently require therapy. It is the staff members’ own fault for existing.

When Rori is underestimated, it is not Rori’s fault. But she won’t mind if you say otherwise. She won’t mind much, because she is made of heart.

The only thing Rori minds is someone sitting in the corner. If you are forlorn, be forewarned. A tortoiseshell with a wonky bladder will seek you out. She will stare into your eyes.

She will take on whatever has taken you down. She won’t take sorrow sitting down.

Test her on this.

Tell Rori your troubles. Rori will make it up to you. Rori will make you forget the absence of respectable bagels in central New Jersey, and the pixie cut you got in 1999. Rori will compensate you for individually-wrapped cheese product and The Godfather Part III.

If you accidentally call your boss “Mom,” or walk around all day with the SIZE LARGE sticker still on your pants, Rori will squeeze all the air out of your worries.

This is because Rori’s got nothing to worry about, and she knows it.

The cat the colors of a Butterfinger has life firmly in hand. This frees her to release the rest of us from gloom. Rori gallops to your side, no matter what a mess you’ve made. Rori skids straight off the Community Room table in her haste to hustle you back to happiness.

Rori has eleven doctorates in delight. She has three colors in her coat, and three trillion more inside. She cannot express her own bladder, but she cannot express all her gratitude, either.

She will never again be in a “hopeless situation,” so she will never stop laughing. Bathroom jokes are hilarious, and so are human eyebrows. Have you ever really looked at human eyebrows?

Go.
Do it now.
Rori can wait.

See? Aren’t they the peak of comedy?

And how about fingers? Fingers were affixed to people so people could pet cats. Is that a toot, or what? Fingers are wiggly party puppets that never stop talking. Fingers are fluent in the love language of dispensing treat piles. Fingers are Rori’s favorite.

Voices are also Rori’s favorite. Do you know about voices? Do you really know?

Rori knows. Rori knows that, what people lack in whiskers, they make up in whoops, yelps, and all the ordinary arpeggios of conversation. Rori acquires colors every time someone says her name. Rori would give anything to keep all of us humming, yammering, shimmering humans happy.

If she catches you stuck like a doomed Roomba in a corner, she will turn you around. She will dump her crayons in your lap. She will flagrantly adore you until you can no longer maintain the illusion that you are awful.

If you refuse to accept that you are heckin’ spectacular, she will launch a sit-in on the nearest object.

And this is where we run the risk of underestimating Rori.

Rori sits in, atop, and upon objects as though she were being paid in tilapia. Rori roosts in boxes and overflows bowls. She is a purring paperweight and a tortoiseshell tchotchke.

Scratchy or velveteen, trapezoid or parallelogram, no object is too objectionable for Rori to sit pretty.

This has created a stir. People stand on tiptoe to see where Rori will sit next. Facebook is aflutter. The entire caper has its own hashtag, which is equivalent to being enshrined in the Constitution.

#RoriSits.

This is not inaccurate.

But woe to our species if we stop there.

“Who is Rori?”
“The cat who sits.”

My friends, this is what we must avoid at all costs.

Rori’s resume is longer than a Lord of the Rings movie.

Rori is a one-billion-trick pony.

Rori sits so that you can stand, or at least so you can stand yourself.

#RoriSits, but far more, #RoriCelebrates. #RoriTellsJokes. #RoriComfortsYou.

#RoriRepairsTheWholeDangBrokenheartedWorld.

(Let’s see if we can get that one trending.)

#RoriSits just as long as it takes for you to giggle again. The joke is on sadness.

The cat with so much to forgive can’t believe how much life has given.

The cat who can do no wrong will be first in line to be your partner in crime.

May we never underestimate a friend so true. #RoriSits, but we stand up and cheer.

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