Common names
It is the third most common question we hear at Tabby’s Place, right after “Don’t you want to adopt them all?” and “Um…I think you have something on your shirt?” We hear it almost daily: “Where do the cats’ names come from?”
It is the third most common question we hear at Tabby’s Place, right after “Don’t you want to adopt them all?” and “Um…I think you have something on your shirt?” We hear it almost daily: “Where do the cats’ names come from?”
I have worked in animal rescue for over 23 years, and I genuinely mean it when I say I love each and every animal that crosses my path. Sometimes, however, one just hits your heart even harder and you know they belong with you.
Words you will never hear spoken to a cat at Tabby’s Place: “You are the second cutest.” “No, you are not the ruler of the galaxy.” “No, you are not Brad Pitt.” And most importantly: “You can’t live in a bubble.”
We all get over-excited from time to time. This is a normal reaction to an Oscar nomination, the arrival of a pizza, or seeing a kitten (in increasing order of excitement, obviously). Still … it takes advanced skills to be too excited for your own eyeballs.
At Tabby’s Place, it is no rare thing to hear words such as “slain” and “flattened” upon someone meeting a new resident. Maybe it’s just me saying such things, but it’s a regular occurrence when magical beings like Odessa fill the suites.
Today, we thank veterans. They have lived with courage so the world can live in peace. They have walked lonely roads of unseen sacrifice. They are shy about applause and accolades, uneasy with the word “hero.” And then … there are the cats.
Have you ever had an epiphany thanks to a typo? I do not mean the mischief of AutoCorrect, which turns “I’m going to Target” into “I’m going to Tajikstan,” causing your dad to text back, “does your mother know about this?” I mean accidentally telling a Tabby’s Place supporter that Sassy is going to “torch […]
Every October is a showboat. Not just every month boasts warty gourds, pumpkin-scented toilet paper, and toddlers dressed as Beetlejuice. But October 2025, you turned the fabulous up to ten.
With apologies to those groovy long-haired trees in your backyard, the best Willow does not weep. The best Willow is so busy, she barely has time to sleep.
A cat slowly nudges a full glass of water to the edge of a precipice, relishing the moments of anticipation until, inescapably, gravity’s pull slams home with a crash and a splash.