It was the hardest kind of day. It was the kindest kind of day. It was one of those days. You know those days. The early morning could not have been more banal and basic. That evolved into something more interesting with writing and coffee. Then, the punch in the chest came.
On that morning, the morning of a day that promised to be joyously fantastical and amazing, the world exploded with grief. We, the Tabby’s Place family, lost a most cherished, most adored, most deeply appreciated and celebrated furry friend. The world tried to reorganize itself, but it was a confusion of upside down and inside out and terribly twisted. Time and activity and necessity will eventually set things to rights again, more or less. But on that day, following the too-brief time together to celebrate a magical life and soothe broken hearts, the rest of the day had to be faced and begun.
Filled with needs (especially hunger; lunch time is an urgent, precision affair for the cats and feeders alike) and either exuberance or sleepiness, the lobby, suites, offices, and shared spaces were brimming at maximum with the Tabby’s Place cats currently in residence, including a few kittens passing through on their way to happily ever after, while even younger other kittens were on their way to healthfully thriving. It was into this place that a spectacular trio (spectacular often arrives in threes) entered.
This lovingly pre-planned special visit provided the opportunity to expound on the Quinn’s Corner expansion and tell tales of all the other most cherished, most adored, most deeply appreciated and celebrated furry friends still with us. These three open hearts, with eager ears and a willingness to share in the wonder of the Place of all Places, could not have been more timely in their arrival. The lobby cats, always perfectly attentive to new guests and old friends, greeted them with their special brand of enthusiasm that only the trio of Olive, Colonel Peabody, and Ilya can execute quite so exquisitely. It was heartwarming and lovely to witness the shared love flowing among humans and felines.
Every moment spent with this tremendous triad brought more of the same. They had not been onsite in many years. They had not seen Quinn’s Corner, that marvelous expansion. They had never laid eyes on Willie. Through the glass windows, magic was exchanged. That’s the way it is with Willie. As time was spent together, questions were asked and answered. In the public spaces, cats were doted on and showed their appreciation for attentiveness and affection. High-energy hijinks brought laughter. Low energy balls of floof brought “aaaaawwws.”
It was difficult, yet necessary, for all parties to disengage. Life has its demands. Heart more filled, it was time to say a different kind of goodbye. This kind was filled with hope, gratitude, and profound respect for this specific trio, and for all of the Tabby’s Place family. And, as it happened, a darling duo had just entered through the front vestibule into the lobby. This was exactly what the broken hearted who remained needed.
In part, well, in half to be precise, this was a reunion. For the other half, this was an introduction. Introductions at Tabby’s Place are magnificent. Introducing Deku and Berry is an absolute treat. Watching eyes expand with amazement as windows into suites give insight into the inner workings of the ark that Jonathan built is a delight. See joy spread with smiles as cat doors are spotted near ceilings. All of this shared with kind visitors whose shelter previously connected with Tabby’s Place to turn hopeless into hope for cats with advanced needs? Beyond precious and to be cherished forever, as is the way for all beings and everything at Tabby’s Place.
Again, half of this dyad had never previously visited. And, ergo, had not seen Quinn’s Corner. This new visitor had, of course, never laid eyes on Willie. Through the glass windows, once again, magic was exchanged. That is always the way it is with Willie.
Even yet again, but not in a way that was or in any way felt repetitive, as time was spent together, questions were asked and answered. In the public spaces, the cats were glad for attentiveness and affection. Spotting the recently transferred cat through windows and capturing photos was undertaken. There was more discussion of a shared passion for cats and cat rescue. But, time has a schedule to keep.
It was difficult, yet necessary, for all parties to disengage. Life has its demands. Hearts even more filled, it was time to say yet another goodbye. This farewell was also filled with hope, gratitude, and profound respect. It also included the promise of a future visit. There are others known to the visitors who, as yet unsuspectingly, will be coaxed to come to Tabby’s Place. There will be another tour, and the Tabby’s Place family will grow.
It is with this continued growth that we heal. Physical expansion, by adding Quinn’s Corner and increasing the walking areas and gardens, is part of that growth. Updating the original section of the building is also a part. Increasing the advanced needs that Tabby’s Place serves adds to it. And, of course, the new engagement of every casual visitor, one-time donor, Guardian Angel, sponsor, adopter, volunteer, and staff member contributes are key to making growth sustainable. But, these words all pale when compared to the depth of feeling we develop and share, all in the care of cats.
Yes, sometimes our hearts break. But, always our hearts are brimming and refilled. With every iota of measurable growth, especially with the intakes of cats who need us, the heart and soul of the Tabby’s Place family expands in unfathomable, inexplicable, but wholly felt and intuitively understood ways. We are made of triads and dyads, of clusters, and of individuals. We are human and feline (many of us a little bit of both).
We are doing something really good here.
We are doing it together.
Sadly, yes, there will be heartbreak on some wretched mornings. But, by the afternoon, there will also be healing.
And, every day, all day, no matter the day, there is love.