The benefacts of life
Tabby’s Place is a cat sanctuary. It is our mission to rescue cats from hopeless situations. We care for them. We nurture them. We are providing a service for them. But let’s not kid ourselves about who’s really helping who.
And yet
We live in a world in which bad things still happen. You don’t need me to tell you this. You only need glance towards Brussels, or Suite FIV, or, sometimes, your own sad heart.
Larger than luck
Trigger warning: Controversy ahead. OK, now that the fearful few have left the room… I do not believe in luck.
The tides of March
March is the consummate in-between month. Lion and lamb. Winter and spring. Death and life.
Come in from the cold
I’m going to tell you a secret. If tortoiseshell cats could sing, they would all be sopranos.
Baconium
We are connoisseurs of irony at Tabby’s Place. For instance: The cats of Suite B are currently playing with a tiny stuffed George W. Bush.* The cats with inflammatory bowel disease live in our staff lunch room. And cats — or, at least, one cat — can acquire sleep disorders.
Epilogues: February 2016
Strange, sweet little February, we salute you You gave us conversation hearts. (LUV YA. Mean it.) You gave us political heartburn. You gave us Cake by the Ocean.
Requested: Super-duper Tuesday prayers
This is a high-stakes day for our citizenry. Emotions are running high across the realm. Of course, I am talking about the sovereign nation of Tabby’s Place.
Beyond the labyrinth
Being in a maze can be maddening, if you’re a mouse. Being in a maze can be liberating, if you’re a seeker.