There has never, not once in the history of ever, been a tortoiseshell cat who was not splendid.
They all have IQs over 280 and the ability to broker world peace (although, for secret reasons, they have not used it).
They are more elegant than Audrey Hepburn and more excellent than tacos.
Their egos are larger in diameter than Europe. They are the colors of cherry chocolate cupcakes. They are the feline equivalents of glow sticks at a rager.
The world is not enough for them, but they will let us live here. We are kind of amusing, most of the time.
Just ask the tortie who’s on a roll.
Tootsie is not one to toot her own horn, so I will boast on her behalf.
She is a tower among torties, though she moves lower to the ground. She is more curious than an astronaut and twice as brave. She expresses herself more gracefully than a pantheon of poets in pantaloons, despite being unable to express her own bladder or prevent us from dressing her in pantaloons.
She is a candy-colored original, and life is full-sized fun.
This might surprise the mathematicians. The dimensions of Tootsie’s past do not add up to grace and peace. She lost a leg. She lost control of her bladder and bowels. Sweetness swooped in to save her, but it was not to last. Tootsie’s rescuer became ill.
The odds seemed unkind for a cat so uncommon.
But Tootsie is a tortoiseshell.
Neither grace nor tortietude have obligations to arithmetic. “Uncommon” is just another word for “exquisite.” And Tabby’s Place is the big candy dish for cats with bitter back-stories. Tootsie was on a roll.
Her journey began in a foster home like no other. If you are a paraplegic cat scanning the horizon for a soulmate, you can rest easy the moment you meet Rey. Rey fostered Colonel Peabody. Rey adopted Valerie and Mr. Peanut. Rey is total radiance for cats who move in mysterious ways. (I am understating the case.)
Rey regaled Tootsie with love and patience.
But since the world is not enough for any tortoiseshell, and Tootsie is not just any tortoiseshell, our three-legged legend needed a bigger stage.
Naturally, her tour rolled into the Tabby’s Place Lobby.
In one sense, it is hard to stand out in the Tabby’s Place Lobby.
A marine mammal with mall hair sprawls like a sultan. A tailless white wildebeest gooses a silver comet. New Jersey’s preeminent treat bandit hugs ankles while planning his next heist. A greeter in formal attire only bites the ones she loves. You can hardly out-weird our superheroes.
But in another sense, everyone stands out in the Tabby’s Place Lobby.
Your existence is cause for celebration. We have never seen anyone like you before. The only proper response is homage. We will pay in your currency of choice, whether that be kisses, giblets, or patience. If you are Tootsie, we will also roll on the floor in reverence.
Tootsie, being a tortoiseshell, is all in favor of reverence.
But she’s on a roll, and nothing will break her tripod stride. There are complex toys to master within fifteen seconds. (I am not making this up. Puzzle toys ranked “difficult” are the work of five minutes. See above re: IQ over 280.) There are nooks to explore and crannies to conquer.
The only thing Tootsie can’t seem to find is fear.
Tortoiseshells do not miss much, but Tootsie is making darn sure. She is scouring the premises and searching the perimeters. The world has no shortage of fear, so it would be uncommon if the Tabby’s Place Lobby had none.
But search as she may, Tootsie cannot find a single reason to be scared here.
Instead of fear, she’s finding fun. There appears to be a surplus of the stuff at Tabby’s Place. The human beings are hilarious without intending it. It’s kind of adorable.
The cats are jesters and jubilators, especially if they were once sad.
The building itself is orange and blue, and everyone knows those are Earth’s second-happiest colors after “tortoiseshell.”
It all adds up to something splendid and sweet. No wonder Tootsie’s on a roll.