Epilogues: October 2015
This can be a funny time of year. Not funny-ha-ha; funny like Election Day, or hemorrhoids, or ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife.
This can be a funny time of year. Not funny-ha-ha; funny like Election Day, or hemorrhoids, or ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife.
I’m sure this occurs to you all the time. In fact, it’s so obvious, it barely merits mention: Cats have a lot in common with the people of the Trobriand Islands.
Age cannot eclipse elegance. Cancer cannot quell a heart of fire. And Raquel Welch cannot compete with Raquel Rosenberg.
If you Google “cat quotes,” you’ll find a wealth of words about art: “The smallest feline is a masterpiece,” said Leonardo da Vinci. “Dude, so true,” said Albert Schweitzer. “In fact, There are two means of refuge from the miseries of life – music and cats.” “Word!” said Edgar Allan Poe. “I wish I could […]
It is a very fine thing that cats don’t worry. Eek is not worried that Mario seems to prefer tabby girls. Goldie is not worried that perhaps Impy moved to Suite B because of his flatulence. Orion is not worried about what he can’t see.
Everything is connected. The future is today. (No, really.) And we’re only really “us” when we’re with “them.”
This was one of those headlines that made me say, I’m really glad there are people devoting their lives to studying this stuff. No, really. No, I’m not being facetious. Really. Go ahead and run your sarcasmometer all over me. I’m clean.
He came to us after one hurricane. He left us on the eve of another. Like the wind we can’t see coming or going, Hobbes has flown from our grasp.
We track all sorts of statistics at Tabby’s Place. For instance: Number of active volunteers: 150 Number of cats in Suite B: 18 Total weight, in pounds, of cats in Suite C: infinity