Sometimes the button says “Donate.”

Sometimes it says “Give.”

But you know, and I know, that “Cherish” is the word.

“Cherish” is the word because “Lilo” is the word. Lilo is not a generic kitten from the kitten factory. Lilo is not the concept of a kitten, or a field on a spreadsheet.

Lilo is a tuxedo traveler who believes the world is her spacecraft.

Lilo is eyes that catch stars where sleepier people only see ceilings.

Lilo believes she could lead legions to victory, and she is not incorrect.

Lilo was littler and brittler than the average kitten. Lilo made normal niblets look like minivans. Lilo made ordinary smidgens seem like Clydesdales.

Lilo needed more than the standard, stable, “strong” kitten. But Lilo was not weak.

Lilo was strong, because someone spoke the word “Cherish.” She did not have to earn it. She did not have to worry. She only had to arrive, starving and desperate and faint. She only had to need. No one muttered the words “expensive” or “impossible.” Everyone spoke her name as though we were the lucky ones, just to get to say “Lilo.”

You said “Cherish,” and so Lilo lives.

“Cherish” is the word because “Proton, Neutron, and Electron” are the words. Tabby’s Place takes kittens from hopeless situations. But there are “hopeless situations,” and then there are nuclear hopeless situations.

Three newborns mewed, motherless. They were not plump pickings in the cabbage patch. They were not sturdy tulips kissing the sky. They were ragged, bony bodies, almost out of breath. They were the very nucleus of sorrow. They were born in a colony shredded by sickness. They had no names and little time.

Reasonable people do not wade into the elements. “Reason” is not the reason for love. Love is the reason anyone ever gets a name in the first place.

Love said “Proton, Neutron, and Electron.” The molecules of mercy danced. Proton, Neutron, and Electron learned the power of unstoppable devotion. There was no reason they should have survived, but you said “Cherish,” and that could power the entire Earth.

“Cherish” is the word because “Gus” is the word. Gus is not a watercolor kitten on a calendar. Gus is not easy, affordable, or ordinary. Gus is not going to tell you whether “Gus” is short for “August,” “St. Augustine,” or “Asparagus,” although his eyes will give away the answer if you guess “Gusto.”

Gus was not always associated with Gusto.

Some reserve that word for kittens who gallop and gain weight. Gus could only gaze and wobble, wobble and gaze. If he had a milder case of cerebellar hypoplasia (CH), people would refer to it as “the cute disease.” But Gus could not run, walk, or do anything but wiggle, all wonder-struck at the sound of his name.

Gus inspired words like “tragic,” “terrible,” and most of all “too,” as in “too severe,” “too hopeless,” “too much.” But Gus was inspired to wait for better words, because you said “Cherish.”

You said “Cherish,” and Gus came to Tabby’s Place, where kittens with “conditions” are declared perfect.

Gus invited his sister Gaia, born with the same limitations and the same lion-heart. They are too wonderful to be broken.

We do not know why some kittens are born with bigger needs, only that it is somehow in their book. They were only expected to have a wrinkled half-sheet, with the pen going dry before they even learned their own names.

Now we get to add pages and pages. We get to doodle hearts in every margin until it becomes a storybook, a fairy-tale, a classic.

“Cherish” is the word, because the kittens of 2025 are coming.

Please speak their names. Please write the future that no one expected them to see. Please Cherish the Kittens today.

And please remember: your donation will be doubled! This time next year, we will look back on unforgettable faces we have yet to love…if you give now.

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