While we’re on the topic of Ragdolls, let me share some quirks about my own Ragdoll, Binx. He’s quite the character, strutting around the house as if he owns the place (which, I suppose, he does). Regardless of his feline companion, Uma the Russian Blue, and our two dogs, Binx adamantly refuses to relinquish his chosen spot. Whether it’s the dog bed, my favourite chair, the kids’ bed, or (his ultimate nightly throne), our bed, he claims it as his own and won’t budge an inch. He contorts himself into such an extravagant stretch that even a king-sized bed feels like a single.
His attempts to wake me up are both admirable and incredibly annoying. Like clockwork, at 5:30am, nearly as reliable as the 7am alarm I foolishly set (the…
