Marching off to peace
Kittens, this is a special day. It’s March. It’s the feast day of St. Albinus. But, most pertinent to the cats and you and me, it’s Ash Wednesday…and Meteorological Spring.
Kittens, this is a special day. It’s March. It’s the feast day of St. Albinus. But, most pertinent to the cats and you and me, it’s Ash Wednesday…and Meteorological Spring.
Sidewinder is not quite certain what sort of party he’s been invited to. He is absolutely certain, however, that you’re invited, too…and it’s gonna be strange.
If humans were felines, most of you crazy characters reading these words would be full-grown cats.* That’s good. That’s excellent. Cats like you and I do the laundry and call our senators and have the skills that pay the bills. But make no mistake: a little kitten shall lead us all.
Human beings are really into ranks and scales and Being Important. Cats prefer to fling our low-minded hierarchies into the deepest, darkest pit.
Oh, February fourteenth, you freighted day, you. With so many red velvet follies and long-stemmed feats of sappiness afoot, it’s a good thing we have cats to keep us well.
If cats were human celebrities,* Wolfie would be Danny DeVito. Divya would be Adele. And Cammi, without doubt, would be Elizabeth Taylor.
Who, exactly, is this cat we call Sophia? She’s answering that question in her own good time.
Everything old is new again. That isn’t, however, due to it being January. That’s due to the sunrise every morning, and the hope that years can’t hinder…and the cats that keep coming.
As the song* has it, the body remembers what the mind forgets. But the reverse is also true.
Yesterday we celebrated a life shorter but sweeter than anyone wished or expected. Today, we meet another cat eviscerating expectations, Arizona-style.