True story: true love lasts.
And when it’s hopelessly-devoted-to-you kinda love, it lasts forever. So it’s only fitting that we (you, me, Tashi, Bialy) are still very much in lurrrrrve with the dancing ocelot, Molly. Special thanks to her forever MollyMama for writing this glorious, picture-full update. Prepare to swoon…and dance.
What’s cute and tiny and shimmies all over?
I’ll give you one more clue: she has more spots than a pimply teenager and all 101 dalmatians combined.
There are many, many Tabby’s Place-isms that old Mr. Webster (this one, not the best of the Websters) would never put in his dictionary. Continue reading » » »
OK, technically she’s Morticia. But it’s “Tish” to her friends - and everyone, with no exceptions, is Tish’s friend.
Tish by Danielle
When fellow Transylvanians (yes, from the actual Transylvania, NC) Druscilla and Pugsley were adopted, Tish became the last kitten standing. Since that’s officially Just Not RightTM, we moved her into the Community Room for a whole lotta human bean affection, yummy food…and capers with Bialy and Uncle Tashi. Bialy, in particular, likes teaching Tish (who is about half his size) the classic game “Now I Will Squash You.”
On second thought, maybe some folks/cats are just acquaintances to Morticia. 
At any rate, as of last night, she’s on hold to be adopted, and will soon be the queen of hearts in her forever home. Smoosh her while she’s here!
Be it known: there are no funny-looking kittens.
Erm…on second thought, be it known: I am full of well-meaning baloney.
Funny thing, this business of ownership.
These pink polka-dot socks on my feet are mine. The half-finished cup vat of green tea on my desk is mine. Your patience with my strange sense of humor is all yours (bless your heart). But in what sense - if any - is a cat really yours or mine? Do we - can we - ever own a living, feeling soul wrapped in purr and fur and awesomeness?
(8)
(29)
(487)
