Never just a doofus
Meet Rufus. He is what you would call a doofus — or, as they spell it in the land of his people, dufus. But woe to the one who looks at Rufus and sees an uncomplicated dufus.
Meet Rufus. He is what you would call a doofus — or, as they spell it in the land of his people, dufus. But woe to the one who looks at Rufus and sees an uncomplicated dufus.
The strawberry moon has hopped back into its hidey hole. The Jurassic Park/World/Money franchise has handed over its latest. The magical month of June has jaunted off for another year.
Sometimes there is news so momentous…happenings so humongous…events so earth-shaking… …only a summer blockbuster can properly tell the tale. Today’s post concerns a colossus of the cat, about to begin the biggest bonanza of his life. Accordingly, we have Spielberg, Cameron and Bigelow on the phone (plus Tim Burton, just in case we wanna get […]
Yesterday’s puzzler of a post has followed up on itself. Reality, that pesky giant gnat, insists that it can’t be bottled up on a blog.
We live in puzzling times. The cold and the cruelty and the chasms between us have never seemed so huge; hugs and grace and generosity of spirit have never seemed so scarce. Until, that is, we look closer. Nearer. Smaller.
In the Bible, Saul was a questionable name. In the Place called Tabby’s, Saul was the unquestioned champion.
Having Ducky at Tabby’s Place was ducky. Nay, it was more. It was supra-ducky. Uber-ducky. So transcendent of ducky it was Ducky with a capital D. But having Ducky adopted — with one transcendentally cool Tesseract, no less — was the Duckiest of all.
In a billion-dollar skincare industry, the concept of serenity looms large. Calm your acne. Calm your pores. Calm your insecurities about the imperfections we took the liberty of inventing for you. Serena isn’t buying it.
Democracy dies in darkness, so they say. But slinky brown tabbies thrive in darkness. For a time.
Salads. Ages and rages of kings. Cats of uncommon character. Cats who are uncommon “characters.”