28/06/2026
Meet Goose 🧡
Goose is our rescued cream point Ragdoll, and we adopted him when he was five years old.
When he first came to us, he absolutely would NOT let me brush him.
We were also told he p*ed around the house and was sick a lot - both common signs of stress
- so my husband and I made a plan. Before we even worried about grooming, we wanted Goose to feel safe and secure.
Every day, we played with him, and every day we introduced the brush. Just one stroke at a time. We never forced it, never chased him around the house, and always ended on a positive note.
It took patience and consistency from both of us, but little by little he realised brushing wasn't something to fear.
About six months later, he was happily accepting a full body groom without us getting scratched to ribbons!
Now he's nine, and he genuinely enjoys being groomed. Being a Ragdoll, he has a beautiful single coat, but that doesn't mean he's maintenance-free. Ragdolls can still develop painful mats, particularly under the armpits, around the trousers, and behind the ears if they're not combed regularly.
One advantage of him being my own cat is that I don't have to do everything in one sitting. If he's not feeling it, I'll comb one armpit today, the other tomorrow, maybe tidy his trousers the next day. There's no rush, and by respecting his mood we've built years of trust. He even brushes his own face if I leave the brush on the floor!
Goose is an odd little soul. He's absolutely fixated on Buddy and Satzu and follows them everywhere.
He was an indoor cat when we adopted him, but we live rurally, and with our other two free-roaming, I knew I didn't want him to spend life looking out of a window. Once he'd settled into the family, I nervously opened the front door for the first time. I watched him like a new mother as he cautiously explored the garden, taking in every new smell.
From that day on, any closed door became a personal insult. He loves being outside. He isn't a wanderer, but seeing him charging around the garden at full sp*ed, playing tag with Satzu and stalking pheasants and mice, makes me smile every time.
His first encounter with a mouse still makes me laugh. Satzu brought one home alive, so I thought I'd let Goose investigate. He carefully leaned in for a sniff... and promptly got bitten on the nose! I wasn't sure if it would put him off for life or make him more determined.
These days he still doesn't actually catch anything, but he thoroughly enjoys the chase.
Goose isn't much of a lap cat, but every night he has the same routine. I get ten minutes of being the big spoon while he curls up by my tummy under the duvet, then he spends the rest of the night asleep between our pillows in what we call the "Goosey Gap."
Some days he's my little limpet and follows me everywhere. He also has a cute obsession with shoes and loves rubbing his face all over them.
Living with Goose has taught us to listen. We understand his body language and his meows, and we know that if his routine is disrupted too much, he might become sick or even p*e in a corner. So we work around him. If we're moving furniture, for example, I'll quietly put puppy pads down beforehand because I know change worries him.
He's a sensitive soul, and through no fault of his own, he simply needs a little understanding.
And he is absolutely worth every bit of it 🧡
