I named her Rosie, which just seemed to fit her sweet spirit. Plus it was what I wanted her future to be (mushy I know). I took her home and provided her with a very simple yet spacious living space, more or less confined to the back half of my living room, secured with baby gates so that she wouldn't get overwhelmed with a space too large. Well, it was quickly decided, by Rosie, that the setup was completely unacceptable. No, she INSISTED that she have full run of my house. Despite her blindness and her arthritis she managed to climb over every gate, every time. And she had NO problem voicing her frustration, VERY loudly!! I finally gave up, returned the gates to Home Depot and decided it was wise to just let this little spitfire have her way. And that was OK with me, because it was all about making her happy.
As I was to discover Rosie had a larger than life presence that completely filled up my home. She eventually decided to remain in the back half of the living room, the space I had originally carved out for her anyway but this time it was HER choice (all cat owners right about now are agreeing with the accuracy of this feline rule). She had her little raspy meow that she used quite frequently to explain how she was feeling at any point in time. Sometimes it was just to ask if I was still in the room (and she liked to ask that at midnight, at 3 am, at 5 am...). She was a continual source of amusement, joy and happiness for me. And in return for that I tried, and hopefully succeeded, in giving her the best rest of her life that she could have ever hoped for. I gave her as much food as she could eat, as many cat nip toys as she wanted, a 24 hour a day soft radio for company, and so many hugs and so many kisses that I think it must have bugged her, but she didn't seem to mind.