We thought she could do it.
We sincerely believed Natalie could play nice even without Prozac.
We were a bunch of dunderheads.*
Ever have a Crazy-Making Thing make you grateful?
Ever have a Crazy-Making Thing make you stop and realize: Waitasecond. This Crazy-Making Thing should have happened to me approximately 1,000 times every week since birth, and this is the first time. Which means I’ve been spared approximately 1,664,000 crazy-making things. Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition!
This spring, a certain Crazy-Making Thing is the cause of gratitude at Tabby’s Place.
If Tabby’s Place is a sovereign nation, the cat suites are more like independent republics than states.
There is no Congress at Tabby’s Place. We are bereft of representative feline government. Suite B cats stay within the bounds of Suite B, and Suite A cats patrol the borders of Suite A, and never the twain shall meet.
Or at least, rarely.
Cats, being thoroughly magical on their own merits, have no need of accessories like fairy dust or pixies or wands or wings.
But if they had time for such things, Tinkerbell would be singing and swinging and making merry to the tuneful stylings of Jiminy Cricket right about now. When you wish upon a star, makes no difference who you are…and all that jazz.