Battle hymn of the Community Room
Mine eyes have seen the glory of something no eyes should see. And mine ears have heard the yowls of a Community Room divided. Gunther is here, and he’s declared war.
Ashes
If yesterday was gras, today is grey. Faithful folk worldwide are walking around with smudges of ash on their foreheads, representing repentance to God and the start of Lent. Faithful cats, on the other hand, have been wearing ash grey in and out of (liturgical) season. Never mind that felines don’t do repentance.
Fat Tuesday
Sometimes even I know better than to ornament something with too-many words. On this Mardi Gras, the emphasis at Tabby’s Place is on the Gras.
Geriatric afternoon delight
It is not wise to accuse a cat of being late. Or early. Or a fan of Nicki Minaj. Or otherwise wrong. Especially if said cat is Elmo.
Guest post: My Fuzzy valentine
There are certain offers you can’t refuse. They come from barrel-chested men with names like Vito and Luca. There are other offers you can…but only if you’re a dang fool (of the sort pitied by this gentleman). These offers come from golden felines who just might be the Brad Pitt of cats.
Sweets for the sweet
There are no sacred cows at Tabby’s Place. And, when one turns up, it tends to get promptly barbequed.
Webster’s passion for fashion
Target has Missoni and Jason Wu. H&M has Versace and Marni. But only Tabby’s Place has Webster.
Hobokeh
Your eyes do not deceive you. Nor did I type this after my 7th cosmopolitan. This is all about the bokeh of a certain North Jersey city.
To make you phel my love
What a piece of work is cat. One comes to Tabby’s Place “feral,” untouchable and uninterested in humanity (as the story goes). One comes to the sanctuary with a rap sheet of offenses, all in the general bucket of “attempting to annihilate one’s own species.” And then they both just decide to start over.
Deeper into the Dot matrix
Dear hearts, the day has come. If you want to plunge head-first into the Dot matrix, you can be her sponsor.