Happy March, Team TNR!

Shamrocks are shining, daffodils are toasting the sun like tiny teacups, and kittens are coming … it must be spring.

But, with apologies to St. Patrick’s Day, our cats have something greater than luck.

A certain rowdy leprechaun was not exactly searching for gold this month. As a longtime resident of one of our feral colonies, Mr. Mayor had everything he needed.

Thanks to you, our “off-campus” cats are full members of the Tabby’s Place family. We treasure them for exactly who they are. We keep them safe. And, if they get into trouble, we spring into action.

Our colony caretakers are eagle-eyed angels, quick to notice the slightest signs of distress. From the front lines of love, one caretaker became concerned for Mr. Mayor. He was, to use a common veterinary acronym (seriously, although you will think I am kidding), “ADR,” or “ain’t doin’ right.”

Thanks to you, we can “do right” by every Tabby’s Place cat. You, dear sponsors, see our colony kitties as every bit as precious as our indoor lap cats. Mr. Mayor should have only known he was so loved when he came to Tabby’s Place.

Let’s just say that Mr. Mayor … was not exactly doing a jig.

Our esteemed guest began his visit in mid-air. Generally, even the most feral cat can be contained in a specialized recovery cage. But perhaps Mr. Mayor won his election with a campaign promise to suspend the rules of gravity.

This distinguished gentleman repeatedly demonstrated his ability to fly out of his enclosure, sometimes punctuating the proceedings with his teeth. Our staff is exceptionally good at avoiding cat bites under most circumstances, but we were in Mr. Mayor’s town now.

Yet for all his fury, Mr. Mayor was in severe dental pain, and that was all that mattered. The good news was that our vet team could bring him complete relief. The “colorful” news was that he would need to stay at Tabby’s Place for several days.

Undaunted by (in the poetic words of staff member Claudia) “the chaos of his choices,” our staff loved Mr. Mayor, and love means perseverance.

It was a team effort, with no four-leaf clovers to soften the path. But we know: Mr. Mayor is an innocent cat, worthy of healing and respect. He was afraid. We have all been afraid before. He wanted nothing more than a peaceful life, free from pain.

And, although he couldn’t see it yet, Tabby’s Place would be the rainbow leading to that pot of gold.

Mr. Mayor’s surgery was successful. Our staff found just the right, soft, hideously stinky food to delight him. He had no idea he was eating the “lucky charm” of a steroid pill (to reduce inflammation) in his breakfast.

I would like to tell you that there was a glimmer of gratitude in his clover-green eyes, but cats always tell the truth, and I aspire to be like them.

So, I will just say that Mr. Mayor is back on top of the world, living the life he loves. Hale, healthy, and happy, he is probably telling all the cats in his colony about his unelected journey. (Can you imagine the salty limericks he could write about us?)

And it’s all because your eyes are smiling upon him, with unconditional love.

Dearest sponsors, a feral cat can’t count on luck to see him through. Thank you for your mighty love, green as spring in all seasons. It is an honor to serve the cats with you!

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

Much love, your correspondent,
O’Angela