You may have heard the expression, “it’s my white whale.” A white whale is a ludicrous goal that you keep chasing even though it may be the end of you. A white whale is an obsession that threatens to eat you alive. We have no white whales at Tabby’s Place. We have a black-and-white whale.
Who is this swaggering stranger introducing itself as 2025? What did it do with 2024, or 1981 for that matter? Do cats follow any calendar, other than the primordial cycle of giblets and nuggets? And most importantly: how does Theodosia, age one hundred nine, remain untouched by years?
At New Year’s, everybody talks about resolutions. I am learning that to love is to live without resolution.
He knows how to open portholes between worlds. Even Wikipedia recognizes him as “lustrous.” And no matter how high he lifts his bottom when you skritch him, he will always be a free element.
“How do you remember their names?” “How do you tell them all apart?” They are reasonable questions. Still, I stammer every time. How do you explain how easy it is to know the cats?
Merry Christmas, Tabby’s Place family everywhere. You may be tucked between grandchildren under twinkle lights. You may be eating Cheerios, alone but peaceful. But wherever you are, if you love someone just the way they are, you have the gift.
The traffic between the North Pole and New Jersey is heavy this time of year. It is Christmas Eve, and no red-nosed reindeer has made his way to Tabby’s Place’s roof. But a far more magical creature is here.
Things can change terribly, wonderfully fast. Locked doors may swing open. Stone walls may turn into windows. You may even show your belly.
On the first day of winter, we are thinking of two cats who did not make it out of autumn. You didn’t meet them. But as members of the Tabby’s Place family, you met them where they were. They were not here long, but they will be with us forever.
“The holiday season” is a tangled string of lights, isn’t it? There are sugar cookies from salty relatives and flashes of forgiveness under the icicles. There are people trying to convince us that Hess Trucks have something to do with Christmas, or that shriveled cherries belong in cake. And then there is Lola, bearing the […]