Hang around Tabby’s Place, and you’ll hear peculiar things.
“I need to squeeze six bladders before lunch.”
“Half a salamander was found in Solarium B.”
“We have a hostage situation in the back hallway. Hazey has the entire Junior Honor Society cornered. Negotiations have failed.”
But there are three words you will never hear at Tabby’s Place: “just a cat.”
They are not “just a cat” when they arrive. They may come purring or cussing. They may distrust us, dislike us, and think we are shambling orangutans who part our hair on the wrong side.
They are ours. They belong. They are Tabby’s Place cats.
They are not “just a cat” when they create chaos. They may escape into the ceiling. They may engage in hand-to-hand combat with neighbors. They may demonstrate the ancient art of “rage diarrhea” when we trim their claws.
They are perfect. They are brilliant. They are Tabby’s Place cats.
They are not “just a cat” when they love us back. They may curl like baby dolls in our arms. They may seek us out when we are sad. They may greet us like the first sunbeam after the longest night.
They are thoughtful. They are empathetic. They are Tabby’s Place cats.
And they are not “just a cat” when they leave us.
They may have been ours or three days. They may have belonged to us ten years. They may have known things that we never told anyone else.
They are our best friends. They are our family. They are Tabby’s Place cats.
If they were “just cats,” our lives would be simpler. We could fill their bowls without feeling their hunger. We could provide for their needs without needing them. We could bypass the grief that does not go away, if only we never got so close.
But we are Tabby’s Place people. Hang around Tabby’s Place, and you will love and be loved more than you can explain.
As for the people who say, “it’s just a cat,” we can only pray some cat will capture their hearts and change them forever.
Maybe even Hazey, in the back hallway.
All of this is to say that we are still mourning at Tabby’s Place. We entered April unraveled by loss. If our friends were “just cats,” we would shed a tear and move on. But they were Grecca, Boobalah, Mr. Man, and Lola.
Hang around Tabby’s Place, and you will hear the breaths of life and death interrupting each other. You will get used to grieving and laughing in the same hour. A kitten named Mercy may lick your salty tears. An Olive who cannot walk may outrun you.
The best way to honor old friends may be to love the new.
And since no kitten is “just a kitten,” that’s just what you did.
In between the stripes of sorrow and sweetness, you gave, and you gave, and you gave, and you gave. You made this the most successful Cherish the Kittens Fund Drive in Tabby’s Place history.
You saved a seat at love’s table for newborns who will become our soulmates.
Hang around Tabby’s Place, and you will hear hope itself.
That strong, brave voice had many names in April:
Arrived: Buffy, Dana, Whit, Myrna, Robby, Chloe, Asiago, Reggiano, Pecorino, Parmigiano, Hope, Mercy, Quimby, Zeke, Ricochet, Aurora, Jolly, Sylvester, King, Oreo, Abbott, Sootie, Rocky, Blossom, Trinket, Tchotchke, Petal, Thistle, Fern, Herb, Moss, Cactus, Warrior, Nick, Cinnamon, Sneakers
Adopted: Pepper & Petra (together), Cinderblock, Lucinda, Ursula, Corbin, Jeffy, Ned, Julien
Forever Foster Fabulosity: Schrödinger (with the luminous Tiana), Veronica (with the exquisite Karina)
Promoted to the Lobby: Tootsie (pictured in top banner)
Promoted to the Community Room: Sootie, Brownie, Reggie
Promoted to Heaven: Abbott, Popples
Stuff We Learned: Beyond our sight, old friends urge us to save new lives. Love marches on. There is life in the midst of heartbreak. Hang around Tabby’s Place, and you will hear it call your name.
Yes, there is no such thing as “just s cat.”. And there is no such thing as ” just Tabby’s Place” because this is heaven and these cats are the angels who inhabit it.