At this precise moment, it is 87 degrees in Ringoes, NJ, with a “RealFeel” of 90. I am not complaining. Neither are the cats. We are desert creatures. We do not beat the heat; we eat the heat. But in the event that you are a tundra creature ruing your sweaty life at this moment, […]
Part of knowing someone — human, feline, or giant iridescent squid — is knowing what makes him angry. In the case of a certain Tabby’s Place Founder & Executive Director, one guaranteed angry-maker is Three’s Company.
If you read Felis Catus on the regular, you know: we do our Epilogues on the first Friday of the month. That’s Friday as in tomorrow, as in, not today. However, there’s news of Jurassic proportions barreling our way tomorrow. We don’t want to unveil this epic information before it’s officially hatched, though, hence the […]
I don’t know where your mind wanders when it wanders. I don’t know what’s on your heart and on your soul today. I do know, with the certainty of 10,000 credos, that you are about to be emptied of all such things.
Here are two pieces of free advice: 1) Don’t bet against old men. 2) Don’t attempt to outrun old cats.
Your name is more than something the deli guy yells when your sliced slaw is ready. It’s a certain signal to your essence. This is never truer than when it changes. And it’s never, ever truer than when you’re a cat.
With apologies to the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros, winter is not coming. This is the time of magnolias and birdsong and the leaping greenly spirits of trees. But that doesn’t mean we’re not game for a little snow.
As youze guyze are aware, the Linda Fund is afoot. From now through June 8th, if you donate through the little cloud on our homepage, your dollars will be doubled for the cats. That much, you know. Those doubled dollars will be devoted to emergency and specialty care for the neediest niblets. That much, you […]
If you think Tabby’s Place needs more secret passageways… If you think America’s Got Talent should be renamed America’s Got Problems… If you’re absolutely apoplectic about the impending cancellation of Sábado Gigante… …some cat, somewhere, is on your precise wavelength.