
There’s a lot of leaping involved in what we do at Tabby’s Place.
I don’t mean over dribbles of diarrhea. I don’t mean around sleeping cats. At least, I don’t mean exclusively those things.
I mean leaps of the faithful kind.

There’s a lot of leaping involved in what we do at Tabby’s Place.
I don’t mean over dribbles of diarrhea. I don’t mean around sleeping cats. At least, I don’t mean exclusively those things.
I mean leaps of the faithful kind.
I think it’s fair to say that we love every single adopter who joins the Tabby’s Place family.
But I confess I have a soft spot the size of Mongolia for those adopters who send letters “home” from their alumni. So it is with great delight that I share the latest from none other than Mrs. TwinkieCupcake herself.
Funny thing about a really good dessert.
You can savor it every single day and never, ever get sick of it. I remember once reading about a spectacularly-old dude who had eaten one Twinkie every day since his 20s, and credited them for his long and peaceful life.
As much as his Twinkies may have enriched his days, they can’t hold a candle to the goodness goin’ on with a certain feline Twinkie and her sister Cupcake.
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.
It’s been an exciting week in Adoption Room #2. Those ultimate cat-loving cats, the Chester four plus Cypress, have made a new acquaintance.
If only he didn’t find his new roomies so, well, stimulating.