…she’s loved.
And she’s so very extraordinary.
The best is yet to come, Dot.

That goes for this blog, too: stay tuned for further Dottaliciousness next week.
…she’s loved.
And she’s so very extraordinary.
The best is yet to come, Dot.

That goes for this blog, too: stay tuned for further Dottaliciousness next week.
Contrary to the old adage, timing isn’t everything. Not exactly. Cupcakes are something, and so are wombats and stirrup pants.
But sometimes, timing is downright divine.
It’s all happening again.
Before you read this post, there are a few things you need to know. Consider it a Surgeon General’s warning, only minus the Surgeon General and plus a lot of cat hair.
You can’t eat Nutter Butters if you’re allergic to peanuts. You can’t drive a tractor if you’re three years old. You can’t get on the Tilt-a-Whirl if you aren’t tall enough. You can’t eat vegan cheese if you dislike vomiting. And you can’t safely read the following if you have an aversion to signs, wonders and/or miracles.
You’re about to slip into the Dot matrix. Consider yourself warned.
Be it known: there are few semantic slips more cringe-inducing than saying Valentimes for Valentines.
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But be it also known: actual Valen Times call for desperate Valen measures.
I’d place Baby New Year somewhere between The Burger King and Mayor McCheese on the Creep-o-Meter.
Whoever came up with the idea of representing the year with a naked, top-hatted baby…who gradually becomes a sad old Father Time carrying a sharp implement? Fortunately, Tabby’s Place has got you covered with a decidedly uncreepy Baby New Year all our own.
Funny thing about cats…
Actually, make that funny thing #8,732 about cats: they are entirely unconcerned about other people’s schedules.