There is a safety feature on my insulin pump called “Suspend Before Low.” It is remarkably feline.
“Nervous, but easy to handle.” Such was Mullet‘s description on his Intake Exam. Nothing can make today easy to handle.
So here we stand, at the end and the beginning. Cats know that there are only ever beginnings. Cats know many things beyond our reach. But they are gentle, and permit us to believe in figments — endings, the concept of “age appropriate,” the existence of credible vegan cheese — as long as necessary. Perhaps […]
Today, confetti on our noses, everything is new. We are bubbling champagne kittens. We are unfettered by the past. We want to believe this is true. But the truth is even better than the new.
I would like to kiss the New Year, but I can’t reach that high. I would like to glimpse what’s next, but I can’t open my eyes that wide. So I will simply sit here, on the floor, with the cats, telling stories.
You may be full of yule log today. You may be full of ill-advised eggless nog. Your living room may be full of Teenage Mutant Ninja turtles. Be assured: you are not as full as a cat.
Magicians keep secrets, but cats spill light. Magicians bend metal, but cats bend time and space. One Copperfield can escape a locked box, but one Copperfield can free prisoners.
It’s Christmas Day. It’s Christmas Day, and you’re here, drawn to the cats like a child to the snow. It’s Christmas Day, and our child-hearts are together, where they belong.
I don’t know what tonight means to you. You may be singing carols of a great mercy. You may be hosting the Feast of the Seven Fishes. You may be dispatching an entire sleeve of Oreos in your holey sweatpants. I do know we are all here, tonight, together.
It’s not just you. It’s not just Olive. Everyone is going through a hard time. Good thing we know a sanctuary.