Oh, 2015, you’ve been a marathon year. We’re grateful. We’re hopeful. We’re tired.
OK, kittens, we’re in it. The heart of the thick of the midst of the “most wonderful time of the year.” Are you feeling it?
There are Christmas songs, and then there are Christmas songs.* “O Holy Night” is one of the latter. O Holy Tabby’s Place, quite conveniently, is singing that song full strength this year.
Tis the season to be feasty beasts. Gingerbread. Pfefferneuse. Fruitcake. Fudge. Linzer cookies. Strufuli.* Arid orbs of prescription cat food.
It’s gotta be hard, being Faye. Face of an angel… Cotton candy fur… Eyes of utter innocence…
It’s Advent. It’s December. It’s the time of the season when the cats and I are up to our whiskers in your kindness.
Has it ever occurred to you that giving thanks is a radical act? That’s radical as in courageous maverick pioneer, not Point Break.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry that, by titling this post as it is titled, I’ve infected your brain with the Fanta commercial song.
Every once in a great while, we receive an offer so compassionate, so compelling, so colossal, that we simply must share it with you. This week, we’ve received the most unstinky of offers.