
It’s been a rough month here. We’ve lost four cats, including Mozart, who left us Wednesday evening (11/25/09).

It’s been a rough month here. We’ve lost four cats, including Mozart, who left us Wednesday evening (11/25/09).
Every so often a profound bond grows between a person and a Tabby’s Place cat. Volunteer Joyce and gentle Albert were the epitome of such a bond. As his Special Needs correspondent and his cherished friend, Joyce was a sweet constant in Albert’s life. Albert left this world last week. We thought it only right that Joyce should pen his tribute here.
Yeah. I’m dancing. It’s a happy dance. Happy, yeah.
That’s what I’m supposed to say, right? Cats getting adopted = good thing.
So, um, I’m sorry about my tears all over this blog entry.
Welcome to Tabby’s Place, may I take your order?
You’re looking for Angelina? Sorry, no can do. Angelina’s not at this pizzeria anymore. She’s moved on to La Trattoria di Forever Home.
We’ve already established that you don’t mess with Tex.
Apparently, you don’t make him wait very long for an adopter, either. It hasn’t even been a month since Tex moseyed into a Tabby’s Place suite, and he’s already the king of his own ranch, er, forever home.
I’m of the strong belief that God is good, all the time. There are few places I’ve been as frequently or as powerfully reminded of this as among the cats of Tabby’s Place. Their unconditional love is a living, purring parable. The quiet, undeniable rhythm of mercy to them and through them is charged with grandeur.
Just when we can’t take another fleck of bad news, just when we feel like the sorrow is pummeling the worthiness of what we do…the mercy comes. And, suddenly, we’re back in the Land of 1,000 Adoptions.