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.
Ever have a morning when the clock radio wakes you up to MacArthur Park,* the toast is burnt, and you haven’t done laundry in so long you have to wear the emergency backup underwear?
Cats don’t.
Patrick most assuredly doesn’t.
Elijah in the Bible had some grade-A adventures.
His prayers turned God’s ear and made it rain. (Biblical scholars dispute whether he was the first man ever to use the phrase, “I’m gonna make it raaaaaaaaain!”) He was known as a hairy man who wore a leather belt about his loins. (Consider him the predecessor of Thrift Shop’s Macklemore.) He thundered the Truth when all the world spoke a lie. And his closing act was riding up to heaven in a flaming chariot driven by flaming horses.
So it’s only right that Elijah in the feline world is one righteous dude.
You may have heard it said, “believe half the things you see, and none of the things you hear.”
But I say unto you: go ahead and believe all the things you hear in Suite A.
“Everything in moderation…including moderation.”
“Sometimes too much of a good thing is wonderful.”
These are philosophies worth espousing.
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