Tabby’s Place has several Suites. The Gastrointestinally Challenged One. The Weight Management One.
And then there’s Suite B, perennially The One Where They’re Swinging From The Chandeliers.
But wild, wonderful Suite B could use a little more camaraderie these days. Make that Cammiraderie.
Sad but true; the great Cleopatra-eyed cat of 2017 has returned, and under the sorriest of circumstances. Cammi’s emotion-laden eyes carry the loss of her soulmate human, stolen away by a cruel illness. Cats understand a lot about life and grace, but I’m not sure they understand death any better than we mere humanbeans do. And so, Cammi was already stunned by sorrow on reentry.
It did not help that she was reentering a cat sanctuary, containing cats.
Cammi cannot help but hold contempt for cats.
And so Suite B, with its wild ones and its daft ones and its galumphing hordes of giddy ones, was an onslaught of All That Cammi Deems Dreadful.
This might have been OK under certain circumstances. As she showed us in 2017, Cammi is a cat of great grace and mercy towards lesser beings. She is capable of rising above the peons and weenies, studiously ignoring them while adoring all humankind. She can be a benevolent queen.
Or she could.
If only la vita had a little less Bella.
I understand your sudden confusion, amici. Based upon these photos, you cannot imagine how anyone could resist turning into a quivering puddle of goo in the presence of one Bella Rosenberg.
She is tiny in size, infinite in cuteness. Her eyes alone could guarantee peace in the Middle East. Surely such a wee blaze of pure light must be innocent of atrocities, in Suite B or elsewhere.
Ah, you dear, simple human.
I thought the same when the reports started blustering my way. “Bella is a beast.” “Bella is out of control.” “Bella is beating the bejesus out of everyone in Suite B.” “We need to consider behavioral medication for Bella.”
Perhaps, as in other cases, I’d have blissfully denied such rumors forever if they only came from fellow staff members. But when I heard it from Cammi herself, I had to reconsider.
By “heard it from Cammi herself,” I mean “heard, witnessed, and trembled at the sound of Cammi’s earth-shattering screams as Bella battered her like the gigantic bad guy in Infinity War.”
Bella. That Bella. Bellicose, brutal, beautiful, bewildering Bella.
Who followed up aforementioned violence by rubbing my legs and chirping like an angel-bird.
Now, hold your proverbial horses. Bella is not a Bad Cat, if ever there was such a thing. (There wasn’t.) She came to us from New York City, where only the strong and stellar survive. Bella may be fun-sized, but she’s not gonna let some country cat like Cammi underestimate her, Liz Taylor eyes or not.
And don’t feel too badly for Cammi. There’s love enough to fill the Nile here — the kind that can never erase loss, but still brings miracle-rich healing.
And, if ever it’s all too much for Cammi’s delicate nerves, there’s always a chandelier to swing from. Woopeee…!