We all get over-excited from time to time.
This is a normal reaction to an Oscar nomination, the arrival of a pizza, or seeing a kitten (in increasing order of excitement, obviously).
Still … it takes advanced skills to be too excited for your own eyeballs.
As eyeballs go, Rocky‘s are exquisite. They shimmer like pear nectar in a crystal goblet.
Then Rocky sees you, and the splashing starts.
He blows bubbles with a bendy straw. He is half-cat, half-carbonation, and one hundred percent excited.
It is not easy being one hundred percent excited.
If most living beings hover around forty-nine percent excited, rising to seventy percent in rare specimens like Jimmy Fallon and Berry, Rocky is in a class of his own.
That sounds impressive until you realize every class clown needs an audience. Since Rocky cannot cool down his excitement, he does what class clowns dating back to the first rowdy dinosaurs have always done.
He “acts up.”
In an ordinary classroom, “acting up” can land you in detention. But this is Tabby’s Place, where the teachers among us are the ones who use litter boxes.
“Acting up” can be so honorable, you earn an Oscar and a pizza. “Acting up” can be an act of brilliance. And “acting up” is precisely how Rocky ended up as our principal.
When you are one stray pounding the city sidewalk, you are at risk of being reduced to an extra. So, Rocky planned to insert himself in love’s line of sight. He clowned his way into the center of just the right attention.
Rocky’s rescuer was an actual angel, no acting required. She is one of the foremost experts in unconditional love. Her name may not make headlines, but fame and honor are two different sidewalks.
Besides, Rocky intended to be famous enough for the both of them.
The pinwheels behind his eyes were spinning. The mastermind had a plan. Some may dream of Hollywood or Harvard.
But Rocky had more than ambition. He had excitement. He was going to make it all the way to Tabby’s Place.
And he was going to offer a masterclass in much.
If you are an over-excited human, you may speak faster-than-anyone-can-understand, or gesture so wildly you knock down all the knick-knacks.
If you are an over-excited cat, you may nip, swat, or behead all the knick-knacks. 
But if you are Rocky, you can convey total chaos and toasty marshmallow love all at once. You bite, but you are besotted. You growl, then gaze all gravy-eyed.
You are live wires sizzling, but your power source is affection. You are not a bad boy. You are goodness, multiplied by muchness.
You are at the head of the class, and extra credit is available.
We could see in Rocky’s kindly, kinetic eyes that his brilliance was to blame for his biting. He did not have too few manners. He had too much genius. He just needed an outlet.
Fortunately, Tabby’s Place is electrified. It was time to send in the Advanced Enrichment Team.
There are cats who can spend all afternoon astounded by a toilet paper roll. There are cats who carry socks in their mouths while yodeling.
Then there is Rocky.
His bustling brain is not content with “toys.” Our ecstatic Einstein needs puzzles to solve and quests to conquer.
His mirth must have meaning. His playtime must point to greater purpose. He needs to grapple with unsolved questions and intense metaphysics, which is to say plastic apparatuses with treats hidden under ladybugs.
And once he solves them, he needs new mysteries for his muchness.
That is what we’re here for.
Fortunately, we are also here for eyeballs.
As he settled in, everyone was excited for Rocky. Our zesty valedictorian was acing love. And then, he started to squint.
This did not pause Rocky’s pursuits of knowledge and hijinks. When you have spent your entire life acting up, it takes more than a little inconvenience to get you down. But Rocky’s beautiful eye grew worse, not better.
It was time to take the brilliant cat to a brilliant specialist.
We were not a moment too soon.
Rocky had a rare case of Eruptive Bullous Keratopathy, a condition that pounces quickly, floods the cornea with fluid, and can cause a cat’s eye to rupture. Instant intervention was the best hope.
There was excellent news: Rocky could be spared surgery, or worse.
Then there was “exciting” news: all we had to do was administer antibiotics and ointment … to an electric genius.
But what’s a little muchness between friends?
If there was extra credit for “never-say-no” love, our staff GPAs would average 700.
But love is that shy scholar that refuses applause and runs from red carpets.
Since I am the staff turnip who just writes the stories instead of wrangling cats, I can brag about my friends who do the real and righteous work. I can tell you that they are heroes and legends.
I can tell you they live at the intersection of love and excitement, where all the mercy pools like a cat’s green eye.
And I can tell you that, thanks to them, Rocky is rocking on.
It is all terribly exciting.